


Gatehammer Fantasy Battles

by Cirex101



Category: Warhammer - All Media Types, Warhammer Fantasy, ゲート 自衛隊彼の地にて斯く戦えり - 竿尾悟 | Gate: Jietai Kanochi nite Kaku Tatakaeri - Sao Satoru (Manga), ゲート 自衛隊彼の地にて斯く戦えり | GATE: Jietai Kanochi nite Kaku Tatakaeri (Anime)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Death, F/M, Minor Character Death, battles, warfare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-17 04:53:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14825636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirex101/pseuds/Cirex101
Summary: A Gate opens, and a war begins that decides the fate of two worlds. From Falmart, to the heart of the Old World, from Ulthuan to the World's Edge Mountains, to the daemon North. Armies clash, and great powers face off.





	1. Chapter 1

Fort Griffon, the Gateworld, known to the locals as Alnus Hill

===

Erhardt Franz Holswig Schliestein, fourth son of the Emperor, Karl Franz, surveyed the carnage from atop his horse. Already the carrion birds were feasting on the dead, paying no head if the fallen were dressed in either the scarlet and white of his native Reikland, or the strange armor of the locals.

He thanked Sigmar and Morr that the majority of the slain were of the latter, and not the former.

After four weeks of bloodshed, the Invader Army had finally backed off, no longer willing to throw their men into the meat grinder that were the Imperial Iron Companies. Erhardt had been in the thick of the fighting for most of the siege, and his formerly pristine armor, was dented, and covered in blood, both his enemies, and his own.

Erhardt was tall for a young man, and athletic, though he had yet to fill out in certain places. He had inherited the strong jaw of his father's family, and the aquiline nose of his mother. A scar in the corner of his mouth, earned in a fight against a drunken Estalian Prince, made it seem as if he was constantly smirking. He was dressed in black armor, decorated with symbols of both Sigmar and Morr. Many raised an eyebrow at his choice of patron deities, but he paid them no mind. Though it was in Sigmar's name he fought, he, like every other man, was destined for Morr's Garden.

As he continued to survey the field, his mind went back to the days before the Gate appeared, before an unknown foe had invaded the lands of his ancestors, burning and pillaging on a direct course to Ubersreik, before the Emperor Karl Franz and a coalition army of Empire Provinces had broken the invading army, scattered them to the four winds, and had themselves marched through the Gate.

On the other side, they had discovered a whole new world, one similar to, yet different from the Old World of their birth. The Gate was the only way to and from the Old World, and it was in the best interests of the Empire to insure that the invaders could not regain it. Therefore, the Emperor had ordered the construction of defenses all across the hill, and had shipped in expensive dwarfen builders to oversee the work. After a month of building, impressive wood and stone fortifications were erected on the hill, surrounding the Gate, allowing for only one way in or out.

No sooner had the fortifications been completed than the invaders came again.

The Empire army had the high ground, fortifications, and the might of the Iron Companies.

The enemy had numbers though, and for every Empire man, the foe had ten more.

What followed was the greatest industrialized slaughter of human beings that Erhardt had ever seen. He was no stranger to war; when one was a Prince of Altdorf, you had to fight beastmen, greenskins, the occasional undead, and all other manner of mutant and monsters.

Still though, the foe Erhardt was fighting were not monsters, mutants, corpse, or follower of the dark gods; they were simply men, and it seemed wrong to Erhardt that they had to kill one another.  
However, they threatened his home, and for the defense of his ancestral homeland, he would kill as many of the invaders as necessary.

And he did. Following the orders of his superiors, he commanded a company of halberdiers, and with them, he fought on the walls, on the ground, the gatehouses, and, when the situation called for it, he mounted his horse, and charged into the enemy's ranks.

Finally, after four weeks of battle, the enemy left, having been bloodied to the point of near defeat.

It was thanks only to the Dawi's skill as builders, the Emperor's strategic brilliance, and the Empire's control of the Gate, allowing them to send fresh men and a stream of supplies that victory was achieved.

Now, Erhardt was put in charge of overseeing the recovery the Empire's dead from the field. He had spent the past weeks barely sleeping, constantly fighting, and it took all of his willpower to keep his body moving.

"My Prince!"

Erhardt turned his head to the left, and saw a knight of the Reiksguard ride up to him.

"Yes, what is it?" Erhardt asked, curtly.

"The Emperor demands your presence in the Keep, at once."

"Well, I would be a poor son to keep my father and emperor waiting." Erhardt said to the knight, before turning his gaze to his company, "Captain Klaus!"

"Yes My Lord?" a grizzled soldier, with a beard and an eyepatch over his left eye answered from a few yards away.

"The Emperor desires my presence in the Keep. You will take over our job in my stead until my return."

"Understood My Lord." Klaus nodded.

"Well then," Erhardt said, turning his horse around and making for the direction of the fort, "Let us see what my father wants."

===

Later...

The Keep of Fort Griffon was a wooden structure four stories high. The dawi carpenters made it highly defensible, crafted from Reikwald oak, and as solid as any stone structure built by human hands.

Outside the great doors of the Keep, Erhardt always took the time to admire the work put in by the mountain folk; their victory was due in no small part to the the sturdy construction of their fortifications. WIthout them, they would have been overrun weeks ago, guns or no guns.

"Erhardt, lad! There you are!" Erhardt turned his head and his eyes went wide as he saw the speaker walk up to him.

"Duke Marius!" he exclaimed, bowing his head, and trying to keep his surprise in check, "To what do I owe the honor?"

Marius Leitdorf, Grand Duke of Averland, Ruler of Averheim, and the most unhinged Elector Count since Magnus reunited the Empire.

He was also a close friend of the Emperor Karl Franz, despite the madness, and one of the finest duelists in the Empire.

The Grand Duke was dressed in a costume colored black and gold, with purple leggings and yellow shoes, and on top his head was a cap with a huge feather. One could describe his dress as comical, almost jesterlike, were it not for the Runefang, 'Mother's Ruin,' and the long dueling dagger strapped to his sides.

Marius was one of several Electors to take the fight to the invaders, and his mad charges and fearless offensives had driven terror into the hearts of the enemy who dared to take Sigmar's land for their own. He was also one of the first to suggest pursuing the enemy through the Gate, and during the four week long siege, had led several midnight raids into the enemy's camps, torching tents, murdering officers in their sleep, and making off with loot, horses, and the occasional severed head.

"Oh, don't be so formal lad; after all, I've seen your bottom when you were a little baby." Marius said, loudly, much to the young Prince's frustration, and to the amusement of several passing soldiers.

"I merely thought we could walk to your father's war council together." Marius explained, opening the doors, "And perhaps talk of some news that may have come to me."

"What sort of news?" the younger man asked hesitantly. You would never know what to expect from Leitdorf. There was always the chance that it could be important, but there was always the possibility that the Mad Duke was leading you on, setting you up to be a punchline in his joke.

"Well, now that the enemy has been defeated, driven from our lands, and this damn gate has been secured, many of the Electors who participated in this campaign wish to go home, and to take their armies with them. The mutants in the forests and the greeskins in the mountains won't wait for us to settle our affairs here after all."

"True enough I suppose Duke Marius," Erhardt replied as the two men walked through the halls, and pass the various soldiers, servants, and other fort staff, "But this gate still needs to be defended. We were outnumbered two to one in that last battle; should the other Electors pull their support now, the gate will be left severely undermanned."

"Too true, too true." Marius agreed, but did not seem to share the same sense of worry that Erhardt did, "That's why your father is calling this council; to decide what is to be done."

Several minutes later, they arrived at the grand chamber that Karl Franz had taken for his war council, and two knights of the Reiksguard opened the doors for them, and allowing them inside.

Inside the room was a massive table, carved from Drakwald oak. Seated at it were all the nobles and officers of the campaign, busy talking amongst themselves.

"Helborg!" Marius shouted upon catching sight of Kurt Helborg, the famed Reiksmarshal, Grand Master of the Reiksguard Knights, and the man he had the honor of squiring for several years ago.

"So glad to see that you survived the battle!" Marius said, "And I am even gladder to see that the hairy caterpillar upon your lip has not grown wings and flown off your face yet! I daresay that none of us would have been able to recognize you otherwise!"

"Grand Duke." was the only acknowledgement Marius got from Helborg, but the tightening of the Reiksmarshal's jaw was all the indication that one needed to know that Helborg was annoyed.

Helborg was not the only great hero of the Empire to be present; Boris Todbringer, the Graf of Middenheim, was seated at the table, his one good eye scanning the room.

Todbringer had once been the main rival of Erhardt's father for the position of Emperor, but years of fighting alongside one another had turned Todbringer from a rival into a loyal supporter. When the invaders had come through the Gate, Todbringer and his Ulrican wolves had come down from the north like an icy wind, and had torn the foe to pieces with their savage might.

Next to Todbringer was the Ar-Ulric, Emil Valegir, who had joined Tobringer on this campaign, and had personally slain several of the giant ogre like monsters that the invaders had brought with them. To Erhardt, the Ar-Ulric was an enigmatic, almost ethereal being, whom was always accompanied by a pair of giant wolves, and appeared to wear a crown of winter upon his brow.

Across from the Ulricans sat Balthasar Gelt, Gold Wizard, and Supreme Patriarch of the Colleges of Magic. The most powerful magister of the age, Gelt was known for his great ambitions, tempered only by his apparent patriotism for the Empire, and his allegiance to the Emperor. As a master over the Lore of Metal, Gelt had used the Winds of Magic to rain down molten gold upon the foe outside of Ubersreik, and had turned entire columns of the enemy into statues. What magic users the invader possessed paled in comparison to the overwhelming might of the Supreme Patriarch.

Next to Gelt was the Grand Theogonist, Volkmar the Grim, who was currently living up to his name by shooting glares at Marius. When news of the invaders had first reached Altdorf, Volkmar was among the first to respond, gathering the faithful together and riding out to meet the enemy. Atop his War Altar, Volkmar had brought down holy fire upon the foe, and put the fear of Sigmar into their hearts.

At the head of the table stood Ludwig Schwarzhelm, Champion of the Emperor, wielder of the Sword of Justice, and bearer of the Emperor's Standard. Ludwig had led the hunting parties into the Reikwald, where the invaders were fighting with the local beastmen warherds, and after waiting for both sides to bleed one another, had struck and defeated both. During the siege, Schwarzhelm held together the west wall, where the heaviest fighting took place, and had singlehandidly slain one of the dragon riders employed by the invaders.

Finally, sitting at the head of the table, was the Emperor Himself, Karl Franz Holswig Schliestein, Grand Prince of Reikland, Prince of Altdorf, Count of the West March, Emperor himself and Blood of Emperors, and Defier of the Dark. He wore the gromril armor of Emperors, forged, in part, from the armor of Magnus the Pious. Laying on the table in front of him was Ghal Maraz, the legendary warhammer of Sigmar Heldenhammer.

"Good," Karl Franz said evenly, and calmly, but in a tone that commanded respect, "Now that Marius and my son are here, we can begin.

"Since this war started, we have defeated two armies; one in the Empire, and another one here, in this new world. Unfortunately, we cannot stay here much longer. The beastmen, the greenskins, the Northmen, and the other forces of Old Night will not wait for us to settle things here before they attack us. We must return to the Empire, and defend our lands from those who wish to destroy us. Still, until we can discover a way to shut down the Gate, and prevent the invaders from crossing through ever again, we would be fools to abandon this position entirely.

"That is the purpose of this meeting; to determine who will stay behind."

===

Hours Later...

"Then it is decided." Karl Franz announced, "As it lies within my Province, Reikland will shoulder the bulk responsibility of defending the Gate from the invaders. Ten thousand men Reiklanders will be posted here in Fort Griffon, under the command of a General of my choosing. In addition, three thousand men from another province will also be stationed here, with the Provincial army rotating regularly. All that is left is to decide which Province will be first."

"I volunteer." Graf Boris announced, "Let it not be said that the Sons of Ulric did not stand by while the Empire was threatened from within."

"Excellent. I thank you for your contribution Boris." Karl said, a ghost of a smile on his face, "Now then, that will be all. You are all dismissed."

If he were a weaker Emperor, the Electors would have never have stood for the tone Franz took with them, nor bore being 'dismissed' as if they were schoolchildren, such were their pride.

This was not a weak Emperor though; this was Karl Franz, the most accomplished Emperor since Magnus, and only a foolish Elector would openly defy him.

Erhardt stood up, and began to follow the other men out.

"Hold a moment Erhardt."

Erhardt stopped in his tracks. He turned around and faced his father.

"We must speak. Come with me."

Erhard said nothing, but lightly bowed his head, and followed his father to the rooms the Emperor had taken for his own personal chambers.

"I've heard that you distinguished yourself well during the battle." Karl said as he poured a glass of wine, "I'm pleased to know that I've successfully raised another warrior in the family."

"I merely did my duty Papa." Erhardt replied as he sank into a plush chair. Now that they were alone, they could drop the formality.

"I expect nothing less from one of my boys." Karl replied, passing the glass to Erhardt, who took it gingerly in his armored hands, "In the end, all we can hope for is that we did our duty; whether it's too Reikland, the Empire, or to our family. You've made remarkable progress since you received your first commission; and now I've selected you for an important task."

"What sort of task Papa?"

"I must find a general to command the garrison. It needs to be someone with both experience, loyal to the Empire, and one that I can trust."

Karl leveled his steely eyed gaze at Erhardt.

"I suppose in this case, two out of three will have to do."

"Wait, you're picking me?" Erhardt was so shocked he almost stuttered, "But I'm not even twenty. Surely someone with more experience would be more suited-"

"Tell me Erhardt, how many fourth sons inherit anything of worth?"

"I... what? I mean, little father. Fourth sons inherit little."

"Exactly. Luitpold is going to be Prince of Reikland and Altdorf and, if he plays his cards right, could become Emperor one day. Siegbald is going to come into a large castle along the West March, as well as several smaller ones, and Kurt will spend the rest of his days as the Lord of a handful of country estates. Which leaves you, Erhardt. The best a fourth son can hope for is money, which you will of course receive upon my death, but that's not enough for one of my sons. That's why I'm giving you this hill."

"The hill father? I thought I was to be general until Gelt and his Magisters can divine a way to close the Gate?"

"Gelt is not sure that such a feat is possible." Karl admitted as he looked out the window of his room, "He has confided in me that whomever it was that created this Gate, be they god, daemon, or mortal, they used incredibly powerful, and incredibly resilient magic. It may never be undone. In which case, this hill is now an Imperial march, which will make you a Margrave."

"I... am honored, Father." Erhardt said, "But do you think I am ready to rule?"

"Sigmar no." Karl answered bluntly, "When you were a child, we trained you how to be a soldier, not a ruler. That is why I will send far more experienced men to serve as your advisers. They will be intelligent individuals, and if you wish to succeed then you will heed their council in all things, even if they tell you things that you do not wish to hear... especially then."

"I understand Father."

"Good. In addition to these advisers, I will also be posting experienced generals to serve under you, as well as Priests and Mages for support. They will support you where you are weak, and from them, you will grow stronger in areas you are lacking. It is not an ideal situation, but it will suffice. Let it never be said that a member of our House could not learn."

"From this day to your last day, you will be the Margrave of the Alnus March, and when you die, your children will inherit your title, and their children after them."

"I accept this responsibility father."

"Good. As of now, you will be the Empire's first line of defense against the invaders. You are also charged with exploring the lands surrounding Alnus Hill, and see if you can not subvert them to our purposes."

"That's the second time you've said 'Alnus'. Why did you choose that name for this place?"

"I did not; according to the prisoners, Alnus this the name that the locals gave this place."

"The locals- someone learned how to speak their language?"

"Partly. The men who interegated the prisoners obtained a rough understanding of enough words to carry on part of a conversation, while more progress has been made in using less orthodox methods.

"If I may inquire Papa, who undertook these unorthodox methods?"

"A wizard of the Purple Order named Olga Kahler. She was able to acquire a basic understanding of the enemy's language."

"How did she-"

"Death magic. She called upon the souls of the fallen enemy soldiers, and, through speaking with them, " Karl said, and that was all the answer Erhardt wanted, afraid to pry deeper into a Wizard's affairs.

===

This is a dark age, a bloody age, an age of daemons and of sorcery. It is an age of battle and death, and of the world's ending. Amidst all the fire, flame, and fury it is a time, too, of mighty heroes, of bold deeds and great courage.

At the heart of the Old World sprawls the Empire, the largest and most powerful of the human realms. Known for it's engineers, sorcerers, traders and soldiers, it is a land of great mountains, mighty rivers, dark forests and vast cities. And from his throne in Altdorf reigns the Emperor Karl Franz, sacred descendant of the founder of these lands, Sigmar Heldenhammer, and wielder of his magical warhammer, Ghal Maraz.

But these are far from civilized times. Across the length and breadth of the Old World, from the knightly palaces of Bretonnia to the ice-bound Kislev in the far north, come rumblings of war. In the towering Worlds Edge Mountains, the greenskin tribes are gathering for another assault. Bandits and renegades harry the wild southern lands of the Border Princes. There are rumors of rat-men, the Skaven, emerging from the sewers and swamps across the land. Something old and unholy stirs in Sylvannia, and talk is that the Von Carsteins have come again. And from the northern wildernesses there is the ever present threat of Chaos, of daemons and beastmen corrupted by the foul powers of the Dark Gods. And to add to the host of troubles the men of the Empire already face, a mysterious and magical Gate has appeared, and armies of invaders pour through it.

As the time of battle draws ever near, the Empire needs heroes like never before...


	2. Chapter 2

The Shadowlands, Ulthuan

"When we heard the noise, we thought it was just more Druuchi. Then we saw the thing; an archway made in the style of a human realm, obviously magical in nature. Nothing's come through it as of yet save a few beasts. None of us dared to enter the damned thing either, prefering to wait for your arrival Master Mage."

"Your caution does you credit Shadow Warrior," Sholacrel, mage of the White Tower of Hoeth, said to the elf who had led him to the magical gateway, "Gods only know what the origin of this thing is, or what might have become of you."

"Whatever it is, it bodes ill for us all." spoke Prince Madir, "So if you could begin before we all become old, it would be greatly appreciated."

The elves were standing atop a cliff side looking down at the beach before them. The Shadow Warrior stood to the left of Sholacrel, who was attended to by his senior apprentices. Madir, dressed in his ithilmar mail, and surrounded by his bodyguard and senior officers. Soon, they would traverse down a path towards the shore, and towards the reason for their presence, the mysterious archway.

Several weeks ago, reports came to the White Tower from the Shadowlands, of magical structure appearing on the shores of their ruined kingdom. After securing the archway, and fighting off the Druuchi scouts who infested the Shadowlands for it, the Shadow Warriors had sent for magical expertise. The High Loremaster Teclis responded by sending Sholacrel, a senior Archmage, and his apprentices, to the Shadowlands, escorted by Swordmasters.

The Shadowlands were dangerous though, and the archway was a complete unknown. For additional security, Sholacrel had called in a favor from his first cousin, Prince Madir, originally from Caledor but now dwelling in Ellyion with the family of his wife, for more forces to supplement the Shadow Warriors. In addition to Madir's own bodyguard, the Prince had brought with him two regiments each of spearmen and archers, as well as a band of Silver Helm Knights.

Young Vanon was one of those Silver Helms. Already unusual for being from a family with multiple children, he was the youngest of his family, and as such, Vanon stood little in inherit. Therefore, he took up arms for his Kingdom, and joined the ranks of the Silver Helms, both for glory and for the guantee of a future away from the shadows of his far more accomplished siblings.

He had done well so far; fighting Dark Elf raids on the Outer Kingdoms, as well as incursions by the fierce Norscans. It was during one of these raids that Vanon had slain the Norscan Warleader, and earned a place at the side of his superior, Prince Madir. Therefore, it was only natural that Madir had brought Vanon along to this trip to the Shadowlands.

The trip was uneventful, but it would be foolish to drop their guard now; Druuchi savages known as 'Shades' littered the countryside of the Shadowlands, and there was continuous fighting here between the Shadow Warriors and the servants if the Witch King.

"Do not press me Cousin," Sholacrel snapped, "Do I tell you how to impale an elf with your lance? No, so leave the affairs of magic to me."

"Fine." Madir replied, turning to Vanon, "Speak with the Shadow Warriors concerning any Druuchi presence in the area. If they suspect a threat, I wish to know of it. Then report back to me. I'm going down there." The Prince then turned on his heal and began making his way back to his horse.

"At once My Prince." Vanon said, though the proud Caledorian could no longer hear him. The young elf then turned towards the Shadow Warrior, "I apologize for my Lord; he is Caledorian you see-"

"Say no more." she replied, "We know of the Dragon Prince's... pride. We also no better than to take offense."

"That is good. Now, about the Druuchi?"

"After the initial attack from the Shades, we haven't encountered any. The Shadow King Alith Anar hunts for them, but so far, none have been seen, which is highly unusual."

"Do you think they are preparing for an assault on the archway?" Vanon asked. Though they currently knew nothing about the archway, even a young, elf like Vanon knew that to let it fall into the hands of the Witch King and his accursed mother.

"Anything is possible with the druuchi involved." she stated, "My people will continue to scour the countryside. Your Prince will guard the archway. I will keep you informed."

"Very well, I will relay this to my Prince. Good hunting...forgive me, but I do not believe I caught your name."

"It is Ivake. May the Cadai watch over you Silver Helm."

===

Days later, Destroyed Village, Unknown Lands

"Well, any survivors yet?" Vanon asked from the back of his horse.

"None so far Captain." answered a spearman, "Merely more bodies."

After several days of research, Sholacrel had discovered the true nature of the archway, and its ability to travel to an another world. No sooner had he finished explaining this than he had asked for volunteers to go through it, and see what was on the other side.

Sending the Shadow Warriors was the first, logical choice. They were the most elite scouts on Ulthuan after all. However, with the threat of Druchii still hanging in the air, the Shadow Warriors were needed to guard the archway, and to continue to hunt for the enemy.

Therefore, Prince Madir had volunteered Vanon and a small squad of bowmen and spearmen through the archway; to see what was on the other side, and to determine if anything remotely civilized lived there.

When they had stepped through the portal, they had been greeted to the sight of vast grassy plains.

For the past few days, they traveled east, hoping to come across something besides wild animals.

On the dawn of the third day, Vanon believed that only beasts actually inhabited this world.

Then, on the fourth day, his party saw a forest; the first change in scenery since their mission began.

Of course, the forest also happened to be on fire at the time, with, of all creatures, a dragon flying overhead.

They waited for the dragon to leave before they moved into the woods. If the dragons here were anything like the ones back home on Ulthuan, then they did not burn down forests for no reason. Something was the target of it's wrath, and Vanon was determined to find out what exactly it was.

So they had entered the woods, and had come across a small village... or what was left of it after the dragon had been through it. All that remained was a handful of half destroyed structures, and many skeletons, some whose bones were half melted by dragon fire.

Due to the sheer scale of the destruction, and that only bones remained, it was impossible to tell what had actually lived here. So far, this excursion into the woods had proven to be merely a dead end.

"Asuryan damn it." Vanon cursed under his breath as he dismounted and led his mount to the well, one of the few surviving structures in the smoking remains of the village, "Returning to Prince Madir empty handed sits poorly with me."

"With all due respect Captain, we've only a few days of supplies left." a bowman said frankly, "We must begin heading back to the archway."

"I know Urhac." Vanon admitted sadly to the bowman. One half of him upset that they had nothing to show for this expedition, while the other half was upset for the lack of survivors.

"Thanks the Cadai that this well still stands. At the very least we will not die of thirst. Begin refilling our flasks." Vanon ordered as he grabbed the well's bucket, still miraculously attached to a rope, and dropped it into the well.

Not even a second after he had dropped the bucket than he heard two things; one was the bucket hitting something, followed by a splash.

The bucket had hit something on it's way down to the water.

Vanon looked over the edge of the well and his eyes widened.

"I see someone down there!" he exclaimed, unbuckling his sword and taking off his helmet, "Whomever they are they're still breathing!

"Urhac, grab this rope! I may need some help getting back up! Syanoc, grab some more rope from the packs! If this one breaks then I'll be needing another way to get us out of that well. Lellehe, prepare your equipment; whomever is down there may need a healer."

And so, Vanon climbed down the well. Upon reaching the bottom, his eyes acclimated to the darkness, and he could see that the person at the bottom was both a young girl, and an elf!

Elves, here, in another world? How? When? Why? Were they Asur, Asrai, or, dare he think it, Druchii?

Questions for later.

Vanon lifted the girl over his shoulder and began the climb back up. He was strong for a young elf, and though it took some effort, he was able to both climb back up the well, as well as carry the unconscious elf girl.

Upon reaching the top, he handed the girl to Lellehe, the healer, who immediately began inspecting the girl's head.

Vanon took a closer look at the girl and was struck by her looks. All elves were beautiful, but this girl was a beauty even among their kind. Not quite as slender as his kin, but her face looked like she belonged at court in Avelorn with the Everqueen.

Most of all, Vanon was just happy that they had found a survivor.

"How is she Lellehe?" Vanon asked the healer.

"All things considering, not too bad." Lellehe replied, her attention on dressing the girl's injuries, "But I believe she could have done without you inflicting that head wound on her with that bucket."

Vanon said nothing, grunted involuntarily. It was not as if he meant to knock her out; he did not even know that anyone was down there!

"Thankfully, your weapon of choice did not do any real damage." Lellehe explained, "By some miracle it seems she completely survived the dragon's fire with nothing more than a few scratches and bruises. Nothing that cannot be healed with time."

"That's good to know." Vanon said, not once taking his eyes off the girl, "Very good to know."

"Captain?" Urhac asked, brining Vanon back to reality, "She's an elf."

"I know, Urhac." Vanon retorted, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from the girl and to Urhac, "If she is an elf, then I believe it is safe to assume that this was an elf village."

"I concur Captain." Urhac said, looking around, "If there are elves here though, would there be other, familiar races here as well? Could there be humans, greenskins, or worse, dwarfs here as well?"

"I do not know Urhac." Vanon admitted, walking towards his horse, "Those are questions for later though. For now though, we move out as soon as Lellehe is finished tending to the girl. We move out of these woods, and then make camp for the night."

"What about the girl Captain?" Urhac asked, "Are we bringing her with us?"

"Of course." Vanon replied, "She'll ride with me."

"Of course Captain."

===

"Prince Erhardt, there's a caravan over there."

Erhardt rode his horse over to Siegfried and took the telescope from the knight's hands, and looked through it. Sure enough, there was a wagon train of locals.

"Do you believe them to be merchants?" Erhardt asked as he looked the caravan over.

"They're not a merchant caravan." Siegfried answered, tightening his hold on the reins of his horse, "They are refugees, more likely than not."

"I do believe, Sir Siegfried, that you are correct." Erhardt said, "They do in fact have the look of refugees."

When you live in Altdorf for as long as Erhardt had, you learned how to tell the difference between a normal traveler and one forced to flee for their lives. Beastmen, greenskins, undead, and any number of other terrors made refugees out of the Empires citizens, and made villagers who never traveled more than a few miles from the place of their birth to take the long journey to safety.

Many of those refugees inevitably ended up in Altdorf.

"If they are refugees," Father Wilhelm, a dour Warrior-Priest of Sigmar, said, balancing his hammer on his shoulder, "Then what are they fleeing from, and should we be concerned?"

One week ago, Erhardt had been made a General, and been given command of the Fort, just as his father said, and promised that the Margrave title would soon follow.

No sooner had he taken command than the Emperor had also sent him new soldiers, famed for their battlefield deeds, as well as experienced men to advise him.

Among the individuals that now made up his command staff included Siegfried von Tempenhoff, a first born son of a powerful Altdorf family, and a friend of Erhardt's. A former Reiksguard Knight, he was a veteran of many battles, and as such, was currently serving as Erhardt's second.

In addition to the career military men who now made up the young Prince's command staff, a group of battle wizards from the Colleges of Magic had also arrived. Ottmar, Magister of the Gold Order, the same as the current Supreme Patriarch, was the unofficial leader of the group. He was dressed in the golden robes of his order, but, in a departure of the current fashion of those who wield the Lore of Metal, did not hide himself with a mask, instead letting the whole world see his face. Three more wizards, Detlev of the Bright Order, Konrada of the Amber Order, and Markus of the Celestial Order, came with him.

No sooner had the Wizards stepped through the Gate than they immediately began recording everything. Apparently, this world was 'strange' to them in regards to magic, and they were determined to find out why. Erhardt was no scholar, lest of all in the arcane, but he allowed the wizards to go about their work regardless. He trusted their judgment, and their knowledge in such matters exceeded his own.

Father Wilhelm, the representative of the Church of SIgmar, was less than pleased by Erhardt allowing the wizards free reign. Like most members of the Priesthood, he had a great suspicion of magic, even when it was on his own side. Regardless though, he heeded Erhardt's command, but resolved to keep an eye on them anyway.

The good Father was not the only man watching the Wizards with sharp eyes; Wilhelm had brought along with him Victor Hausller, an... honored member of Holy Order of the Templars of Sigmar... a Witch Hunter. There was a hard man if Erhardt had ever seen one. This was a man who hunted heretics and monsters, burned both them, and the innocent at the stake, and probably slept easily in the night.

Erhardt had fought mutant beastmen, greenskins, and all the might of the Invaders.

Victor Hausller scared him more than any of those monsters did.

What was worse, Erhardt was fairly certain that Hausller knew it.

Right now, all of these individuals went with Erhardt into his excursions of the Invader's countryside, accompanied by a small group of Reiksguard Knights, and several companies of pistoliers.

They had been ready to turn around and return back to the fort when Siegfried had caught sight of the caravan.

"Well Prince?" Siegfried asked, "What shall we do with them? Let them pass or do we go down and say 'hello?'"

"We need more information on these lands my Prince." Ottmar said as he rode up next to Erhardt, "We have a brief understanding of their language, but we need local knowledge. Perhaps we could work out a deal with those folk-"

"Or we could put the fear of the Heldenhammer into them, Magister." Hausller interupted, "And force them to confess their knowledge."

"Enough, both of you." Erhardt commanded, trying to rein in his fear of the Witch Hunter "We will talk to these people. Heinrich?"

Erhardt's squire, a ten year old boy from a Duke's family, had his pony step forward.

"Yes M'Lord?"

"Do you have the Book?"

"Yes M'Lord."

'The Book' refered to the rough collection of everything that the Empire knew of the Invader's language. Without it, they had no hope of understanding what the locals would say.

"Hold a moment Prince Erhardt," Siegfried said, taking the telescope from the Prince's hands, "I see another group of people on the horizon."

"Are they the enemy?" Erhardt asked, "Or bandits?"

"No, no. I... I cannot believe that I am saying this, but I believe they are elves."

"Elves?" Erhardt repeated, a bit shocked, "So this land has elves as well as men. Fascinating."

"They are native to this land Prince Erhardt." Siegfried said with a shake of his head, "They fly colors from Ulthuan."

"The Asur?" Ottmar exclaimed, "Here? What are the Westerly folk doing-"

The mage was cut off by a distant roar. The men of the Empire turned their attention away from the Asur and back to the direction of the Caravan, which was currently under attack by a enormous flying monster, one that Erhardt had only seen once before, at the Imperial Zoo at Altdorf.

"Sigmar preserve us!" Wilhelm said, grasping his warhammer with both hands, "It's a Morr damned dragon!"

"A proper dragon at that." Seigfried added, "Not like those runts the Invaders rode."

The knight then turned to Erhardt, a serious look on his bearded face.

"My friend, we must leave before the beast notices us. We have no weapon that can stand before a dragon."

"On the contrary my good knight." Ottmar said, his fellow mages behind him, "You have four of the Winds of Magic at your disposal."

Erhardt looked skeptical before turning back to the dragon, unsure of what to do.

"My Prince," Ottmar started, "We must find out more about this land. That caravan is the only thing available to us right now. If we let that dragon kill them all, it may be some time fore we get another chance. In addition, the caravan will owe us their lives."

Erhardt said nothing for a second, before he nodded.

"Men!" he shouted, "Draw the attention of the dragon away from the caravan and the wizards. Ottmar and his fellows are going to kill that beast for us! Now ride, as if Khaine and all his hell were upon you!"

===

"Captain Vanon, it's the dragon again!" a bowman said.

"I can see it." Vanon replied, looking at the great beast as it attacked a human wagon train.

The young elf girl's wounds had been treated, but she was still unconscious. They could no longer afford to wait, so instead of riding with Vanon, the girl was instead placed upon a makeshift stretcher, and carried between two spearmen. After the refilled their water, the party had set out. A few hours into the march, they caught sight of the wagons. Vanon was going to ride over to greet them, before the dragon that had burned down the girl's village had appeared.

Now, they were witnessing more of the dragon's rampage unfurling before their very eyes.

"A poor way to go." Urhac commented, "Whatever those humans may or may not have done in their life, I would not wish death by dragonfire on my worst enemy."

"Not even if it was a Druchii?"

"Not even then."

Vanon grunted before he addressed the party, "We double back the way we came, and wait for the dragon to leave! No point in risking our lives-"

"Captain, humans on horseback are riding towards the dragon!" Urhac exclaimed.

Then they are brave, but nothing to do with us-"

"They bear banners of the Empire of Man!"

That got Vanon's attention. Empire humans, here?

"How in the name of the Cadai-" Vanon started.

"Captain!"

Vanon growled. He was becoming tired of being cut off mid sentence.

"What is it Lellehe?"

"It's the girl! She's awake!"

The girl was indeed awake, and already standing, and though her footing was uncertain, her eyes were sharp and alert looking at the dragon in the distance.

Vanon got off his horse and made his way to her. The girl saw Vanon and tried to take a step, only to stumble, forcing Lellehe to catch her.

"Are you alright?" Vanon asked the girl, "Can you tell us your name?"

The girl responded with a quick succession of gibberish.

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?" Vanon asked, "Can you speak Eltharin?"

More panicked gibberish.

"I shall take that as a no." Vanon sighed.

The girl then pointed at the dragon before pointing at her eye, all the while saying the same word over and over again.

The meaning behind this dawned on Vanon.

"I think she's saying to attack the dragon in the eyes." Urhac said, "Must be it's only weak point."

"I agree." Vanon replied.

"Captain, we're not actually considering going up against a dragon are we?" a spearman asked, "Forgive me if I speak out of turn, but that is not our mission!"

"Our mission to to discover what lies on the other side of the archway." Vanon said, "Right now, the only lead we have is a young girl who doesn't speak our language, and a band of humans from the Empire, who is currently running headfirst into a hopless fight with a dragon. If we wish to discover anything about this world, then the Imperials are our best choice. That is, unless you wish to teach the girl Eltharin yourself?"

"No Captain."

"Then we save the humans from being killed by the dragon. Archers, aim for it's eyes! I'll draw it's attention! The success of our mission depends on keeping at least one of those humans alive!"

===

Erhardt didn't know how he was going to survive this. Put him in a fight against beastmen or greenskins, and he was calm and cool under pressure. A dragon though? Those great beasts that could fight a greater daemon one on one?

A voice in the back of his head kept screaming at him, accusing him of leading his people into certain death. Of being an embarrassment to his father and his house.

He silenced the voices. Self doubt now of all times would get him, and everyone else killed. Now was the time for focus.

"Pistoliers! Fire at will!" he ordered.

They obeyed, unloading rounds of lead at the fire breathing beast. It would not be enough to kill it, even one as unfamiliar with dragons as Erhardt was knew that. That was not the point of it though; they were trying to draw it's attention away from the caravan, who was already losing people to the overgrown flying lizard.

As expected, the pistols did not even scratch the armor like scales of the dragon. It did succeed in drawing it's attention away from the locals.

Erhardt could now see that the only the dragon's right eye was of any use to the beast; the other had an arrowshaft sticking out of it's left.

"Men of the EMpire!" Erhard shouted over the dragon's roars, "It is blinded in it's left eye! Attack from there!"

The dragon flapped it's wings and raised itself into the air. It then descended upon a trio of pistoliers, knocking them off their horses and skewering them on it's claws.

Another group of pistoliers were coming on it's left side, firing for the eye. The dragon turned it's head and opened it's mouth.

Erhardt's eyes widened.

"You fools!" he screamed, "It's going to breath fire on you! Scatter!"

If the men heard him, it wouldn't have mattered. The dragon's fire engulfed both horses and riders. All Erhardt could do was pray that they died quickly.

"Wizards!" he yelled, "Use your damned power!"

The dragon then turned to Erhardt, and made to open it's mouth. This time, however, a fireball hit it across it's snout.

"Come now you great lizard!" Detlev the Bright Wizard screamed, his hands holding an ever growing fireball, "Have a taste of true fire!"

The wizard cast another fiery spell at the dragon, but the beast did not seem to take notice of the attacks.

"You fool, that thing breaths fire!" Konrada of the Amber Order shouted, "You can't kill it with it's own weapon!"

"Then I need to use more fire!" Detlev shouted back, riding closer to the dragon, inhaling, and then exhaling an inferno into the dragon's face.

Erhardt was then sure that the Bright Wizard was insane.

The dragon roared and took flight once again; you don't know if Detlev was actually hurting the thing, but it was certainly making it uncomfortable enough to keep distance between itself and the mad magister.

"We must keep it grounded!" Erhardt shouted to his men, "Aim for the wings!"

Above him, Konrada the Amber Wizard had used her magic to transform her body into that of a giant eagle. She then used that form to attack the head of the dragon, using her superior speed and maneuverability to stay out of the range of the drago's snapping jaws.

"My Prince!" Ottmar, Gold Wizard, rode up to Erhardt, "Markus and I have a plan, but he requires time to cast it! I will bring the dragon down, but you and your men must keep it's focus away from Markus!"

"Do what you must Magister!" Erhardt stated, drawing his blade, "And we shall do what we must! For Sigmar and the Empire! Come men! Let us send this beast to Morr!"

Erhardt kicked his horse, and he charged alongside the Reiksguard Knights, drawing swords and aiming lances at the dragon.

The dragon turned around and, using it's wings like sails, created powerful gusts of wind to knock them all back. The winds forced some knights back, but knocked a few knights off their horses, such was the power of these gusts. Those who remained on horseback were forced to break off their charge.

Erhardt was one of these knights, knocked off his horse, and thrown to the ground. Then, to his horror, no sooner had he hit the ground then his horse fell on top of his legs. Erhardt roared in pain; perhaps one of his legs were broken. The horse then got up and ran off, leaving Erhardt on the ground.

Ottmar raised his staff, and began to draw the Gold Wind to him. After a few seconds of casting, he unleashed his power in the form of the spell known as 'Searing Doom,' causing molten metal to rain down from the sky like arrows.

The dragon's scales would protect it from most of the spell... but it's leathery wings were exposed, and vulnerable.

The Searing doom came down like rain, and hundreds of shards of razor shop and burning metal pieced it's wings, making dozens of holes, and tearing to shreds the once mighty wings, capable of bearing the dragon through the air, and forcing it to land.

Unfortunately, it landed right in front of Erhardt.

From it's one good eye, the dragon was staring right at him. Though it was in pain, it would use it's strength to kill him at the very least.

It moved forward, it's massive head low to the ground, and it's jaws coming closer and closer to the Prince.

Erhardt picked up his sword, a 'Griffon Claw' blade, and held it in front of himself. If he was to die, he would die defiant, and not show the fear that was gripping his soul.

"Sigmar, give me strength to face this." Erhardt prayed, "Morr, if you judge me good, let me join you at your side, and let my ancestors, all noble Princes of Reikland, welcome me with open arms. Shallya, have mercy on my father."

The dragon was getting closer when, suddenly, Erhardt heard the sound of a galloping horse coming from his right; the same direction as the dragon's blindspot.

A knight on horseback had ridden up to the horse, and stabbed a lance into it's left eye, causing it to scream in pain and rage.

The knight abandoned his lance in the great wrym's eye, and rode his horse over to Erhardt.

"Give me your hand man!" he said in accented Reikspiel.

Erhardt did as he was bade, and raised a hand. Somehow, with one hand, the knight was able to lift Erhardt, who wore plate armor, onto the back of his horse, without having his arm be pulled out of his socket.

The knight then sped off on his horse, as a rain of arrows began to fall upon the dragon. Erhardt looked to see where they were coming from, and saw a company of the High Elves they had spotted earlier on a hill, shooting at the dragon.

If they were High Elves, then that meant that the knight who rescued him was also an-

The dragon roared, and began breathing fire as a response to the pain it was feeling.

Far away, on another hill, the Celestial Wizard, Markus, was ready to cast his spell.

Let us end this!" he roared, before unleashing the power of the Blue Wind.

The spell he cast was the 'Comet of Cassandora,' a powerful spell that reached into the heavens, and pulled down on a meteorite to bring it to earth.

This time, the Comet was coming for the dragon.

Wounded, and with useless wings, even if the the dragon was aware of the incoming space rock, it could not move in time.

The comet hit it's target dead center, and when it struck true, a loud boom filled the region, and it kicked up a cloud of dust engulfed the area where the dragon was.

The knight rode a bit farther away before stopping next to the main gathering of the Empire's expedition.

"Take your Prince." he said, and they wasted no time in lifting Erhardt's body off of the Elven steed and onto the ground. Father Wilhelm began using his healing powers on Erhardt, and his squire Heinrich was pouring ale down his throat from a flask.

Erhardt looked up at the face of his rescuer. He was indeed an elf, wearing a silver helmet.

"I thank you noble Asur." Erhardt said, "For saving my life. Pray tell though, what are the children of Ulthuan doing here?"

"I am Captain Vanon of Ulthuan. As for why I am here, I could ask the same of you, sons of the Empire." came the response.

Before anyone could say anything else, a loud rumble filled the air. All looked towards the where the dragon was.

The dust had cleared, and all could see the dragon now. The Comet had struck true, and had broken the back of the dragon. It now lay on the ground, paralyzed from it's shattered spine. It was dying a slow and painful death.

It needed to be put out of it's misery.

"Wait here for a moment Imperial." Vanon said, and he directed his horse back towards the dragon.

Erhardt watched him go, and then looked around the collateral destruction of the battle. The field was on fire, and he had lost a little over a dozen men to this beast.

The caravan was still alive though. Right now, one of their wagons was making it's way towards them.

"Heinrich." Erhardt started, "Tell me you still have that book."

"Yes M'Lord."

"Good. Because in a few moments, we're going to need it."

===

Vanon rode his horse towards the dragon at a quick pace. Though it had been their enemy not too long ago, Vanon did not want the creature to suffer.

His path towards the dragon took him next to his soldiers, and the girl they had found. The girl ran up to his horse and launched into a stream of her native tongue, pointing at both herself and at the dragon.

Vanon did not understand the words, but he understood the meaning.

She wanted to come with him to see the dragon who had destroyed her village and killed her kin die with her own eyes.

Vanon reached down and lifted her up onto the horse. She was much thankfully much lighter than that young human lord, and therefore much easier to pull up (his arm was still mad at him for that stunt with the human). He placed her in front of him, and then began making his way towards the dragon once more.

A minute later, they were at the dragon, who was laying perfectly still, unable to even growl at them, only unleash short, distressing, noises.

Vanon dismounted first, and, since the girl had no idea how to dismount properly, lifted the girl bodily from the saddle. The pair of them then made their way to the crippled beast. The girl's stare was both fearful and hard at the same time. Vanon's sword was in his hand.

A few yards away from the dragon, and Vanon held up a finger, and the girl stopped moving forward. Vanon continued the rest of the way towards it until he was finally right next to the right side of it's head, with it's one good eye, which was now looking up at him.

Vanon raised his sword, and stabbed it into the dragon's head, between it's scales, dislodged from the magical comet, where it's brain would be. The dragon let out one final roar, and then fell silent.

Vanon's sword and armor was covered in the creature's blood. There was nothing he could do about the armor for the time being, but he knelt down and cleaned his sword upon the grass. He looked up at the girl, and saw that she was still standing; several tears were rolling down her face, but her eyes were hard.

He stood up and walked over to her, sheathing his sword and taking his helmet off. When he reached her, he became very aware of the difference in height between the two of them; he stood almost two heads taller than her.

She looked up at him, and with tearful eyes, brought a hand up to her chest and said, "Tuka... Tuka."

"Tuka." he repeated, "That must be your name."

"Vanon." he said, lightly pounding a clenched fist against his armor.

He gestured towards the horse, and Tuka nodded, but not before she walked closer tot he dragon and spat at it, before turning around and walked back towards his horse.

===

Across the grassy fields, a lone figure stood and watched the battle that had taken place before her.

"Well, well, it seems the world on the other side of the Gate has some very interesting people." Rory Mercury said as she balanced her giant axe against her shoulder, "Perhaps it wouldn't be a waste of time to check it out."

===

"Well Lelei, what do you make of this?"

Lelei looked at the men pointed out to her by her master, Cato the Elder Sage. They wore strange clothes, and carried banners she did not recognize. Perhaps they were from a far away vassal nation?

Whomever they were, they had mages in their company who were capable of slaying the ancient flame dragon that had burned down Coda Village.

"They are powerful." she finally said, "And we should be wary."

"I'm inclined to agree with you young one." Cato nodded as he directed their wagon closer to their mysterious saviors, "Still though, it would be rude of us not to thank them."

Many of their fellow villagers had died in both the initial destruction of Coda, and then in the flame dragon's followup attack. As such, while the Village Elder and any able bodied men attempted to round up any survivors from their caravan, it had fallen onto Cato and Lelei to speak with the strangers who had slain the dragon on Coda's behalf.

The dragon, slain! She still could barely believe it! Never in the recorded history of anywhere on Falmart had anyone, no knight, nor elf, nor mage, had ever accomplished such a feat, at least not when the dragon in question was an ancient flame dragon.

The mages in their ranks were leagues above anything ever previously recorded... and Lelei was curious to know more about this magic, and she knew that her master shared her desire as well.

Two knights on horseback rode towards them. Cato stopped the horses and raised a hand in greeting.

"Hello Sir Knights!" he called out, "Thank you for your timely rescue! I am Cato El Altestan, better known as Cato the Elder Sage! And you are?"

"Wir sprechen Ihre Sprache nicht alter Mann." a knight said.

Lelei blinked. That wasn't the common tongue. In fact, that was no language she had ever heard before. Whomever their saviors were, they were far from home.

A knight pointed a gauntlet clad finger at them, and then pointed at a group of his fellows.

"Folge uns. Unser Prinz möchte mit Ihnen sprechen." he said, and then he and he partner turned their horses around and trotted back towards their main group.

"Well, I do say that they wish to follow us Lelei." Cato said, "Best not keep them waiting. I suppose we could walk the rest of the way though. Come, help me down. I'm afraid that these old bones make it hard for me to do this myself."

After she had helped her master down, Lelei and Cato walked through the ranks of the strange men, Lelei taking care to take note about everything that she saw.

These men wore red clothes under their metal armor, and their heraldry featured heavy usage of skulls, griffons, hammers, strange crosses, and twin tailed comets. These men were grim faced, indicative of years of hard living, and most certainly hard fighting. They also forsook the current Saderan fashion of being clean shaven in exchange for long, well groomed, and sometimes elaborate beards and mustaches, reminding her of her Master, Cato.

In the back of Lelei's mind, she wondered if these were the mysterious Outlanders who came through the Gate, fought off the Allied Army, and who currently occupied the sacred Alnus Hill.

If they were powerful enough to kill a flame dragon, then they could very well be one and the same.

The knights they were following had long since dismounted, and led them through the maze of the foreign soldiers. Eventually, they reached the commander of these men, and his retinue.

"Prinz Erhardt, hier sind die Einheimischen, wie Sie bestellt haben." a knight said, and their commander, a man seated on the ground, whose back was turned to them, stood up, and turned around.

'He is young for a commander.' Lelei thought as she saw him. Indeed he was young; he couldn't be much older than herself, and she was only sixteen! How did one so young become put in charge of so many obviously seasoned veterans?

"Well hello lad!" Cato said, "My name is Cato El Altestan, better known as Cato the Elder Sage! On behalf of Coda Village and her fine inhabitants, or at least those who remain alive and unburnt, we thank you for your timely assistance! Tell me, where are your mages, and when can I speak with them?"

The soldiers looked among themselves with confused expressions.

"Master." Lelei interjected, and Cato looked at her, "I do not believe they understand us any more than we understand them."

Her master then brought a hand to his face.

"Oh, right, you do not understand me. Apologies, friends." he said.

The Commander barked an order to a boy, ten to twelve years of age perhaps, who then took out a book, and as the Commander began to speak, the boy scanned the pages of the book.

"Hello locals." the boy said in the Common Tongue, but with a thick accent, "Am Prince Erhardt of Empire. Offer protection for words. Safety for people. Follow we. Understand, yes?"

The boy looked up at Cato with pleading eyes. Cato chuckled and nodded.

"Understand, yes!" Cato answered, and the boy's expression brightened as he turned to his Commander, this 'Prince Erhardt,' before launching into a stream of words in his people's strange and harsh tongue.

"Well, time to take this news back to the Elder." Cato said as he turned around, "These gentlemen have a safe place for us! Gods know we need one!"

Lelei nodded and followed her Master, but not before she watched as several individuals in elaborate robes walked over to the Prince. She knew instantly that these were the mages who killed the dragon.

She was wary of these newcomers; they could be the ones who were fighting the Empire of Sadera, her nation, after all. That being said, her waryness was eclipsed by her desire to find out more about their mages, and if she could learn their powerful magics.

So consumed with that one thought, Lelei almost did not notice the elf on horseback riding past her, with another elf, a pretty young female, sitting behind him with her arms wrapped around him.

===

"Well met Son of Sigmar!" the elf, Vanon, said in perfect Reikspiel, as he rode up to Erhardt, "You fought well this day. Not every human can claim that they survived a battle against a dragon!"

Though Father Wilhelm's powers had healed his leg, Erhardt's stance was shaky; something he tried to not show in front of either his men, the locals, or the Asur who saved his life.

"High praise coming from one of the folk of Ulthuan." Erhardt replied, looking the elf in the eyes, "I would like to thank you Captain Vanon, once again, for saving my life."

"Think nothing of it." Vanon said as he dismounted, and Erhardt saw that the elf was not along. Also on the back of his horse was an elf girl, young, by their standards at least.

"Pardon me if I come off as presumptious Noble Azr," Erhardt began, "But if I may ask, how did you come to be in this land?"

"An archway, magical in nature, appeared one day in Ulthuan." Vanon explained, "My superior, Prince Madir, ordered my party through it, to see what was on the other side."

Erhardt was shocked. There was a second Gate, on Ulthuan of all places?

"You look as if you have seen a ghost Prince Erhardt." Vanon said.

"Forgive me Captain, but is it true that you came here through a magical gate?"

"Indeed it is true." Vanon said, raising one of his long eyebrows, "Why?"

"For it was through another of those gates which is how we men of the Empire came to be in this world." Erhardt explained.

"This world?" Vanon repeated, his eyes widening, "Then this is not the Old World?"

"I am afraid it is not." Erhardt shook his head, "This is an entirely new world, filled with humans, and other monsters."

"Then it is also filled with elves." Vanon said as he gestured to the elf girl, who blinked and appeared taken aback at suddenly being the center of attention, "This is Tuka, the dragon we killed was responsible for her village's destruction."

"Then elves live here as well." Erhardt mutttered to himself before looking at Vanon, "Captain, I invite you and your people to my fort. We can compare information there, as well as obtain new information from the locals that we just rescued from that dragon."

"A sound plan Prince." Vanon agreed, "I will go tell my people. How far is your fort?"

"Not far. Half a day's ride to the north."

"Then I will gather my people, and together we will go to your fort."

===

Tuka did not really know what to make of her situation. On one hand, she was surrounded by strangers, whom she did not understand, and whom could not understand her. On the other hand, she did not have anywhere else to go. Her village was destroyed, long time friends and family dead, and father... father was missing. Yes, just missing. He had to have escaped! He just had to!

In addition, the elves she now found herself surrounded with were friendly enough, especially their leader, whom Tuka suspected was attracted to her, and, perhaps most important right now, demonstrated that they were capable in a fight. Add to safety in numbers, and Tuka was better off in their company than she was alone, even if they now seemed to be traveling with humans, whom all elves had to be wary of.

Still though, the elf she now rode with, and by extension the elves under his command, were different from her people. To start, he was taller than most men of her village, and his features were more striking than handsome. Also, there was the way he carried himself; this was not an elf who had lost lands and had his people killed by humans. This was an elf who never had to endure racial slurs, or pogroms that her ancestors faced. This was an elf who was a lord among his people, who was clad in armor, and fought with a sword that none in her village would have ever dreamed of either affording, or using.

What sort of life in his homeland did he lead, to require such equipment? Many answers formed in her mind, but none satisfied her curiosity.

With so many differences between them, Tuka vowed that when she learned his language, she would ask this Vanon all the questions that lingered in her mind and more.

For now though, she took comfort in the fact that, despite the language barrier, she felt safe around him, and his many warriors.

===

An hour later, Reikland Imperials, High Elves, and local Falmarters made their way towards Fort Griffon. Erhardt had sent runners ahead to inform the fort of their arrival, and of their guests, and to send wagons back for the dragon's corpse; it's scales, teeth, bones, and other body parts would sell for a fortune.

None noticed the solitary girl, carrying an axe far larger and taller than she, following them.

===

They had reached Fort Griffon without further incident. Thanks to the runners Erhardt had sent up ahead, the garrison was expecting them, and opened the gates to the fort upon arrival.

"Welcome back Prince," General Johann von Midden, commander of the Middenland soldiers, greeted the second Erhardt got off his horse, "Successful day I see; managed to make friends with the locals?"

"Not quite General." Erhardt answered as he handed his horse off to a stableboy, "Trust has yet to be obtained I am afraid; though saving their lives from a dragon will no doubt help in gaining their trust."

"We shall see." Johann replied as he looked at the Coda refugees, "What do you plan on doing with them?"

"For now, we will house them within the fort. Then I will see about constructing housing for them outside the walls."

"A town for your fort then?" Johann asked, "Not even officially a Markgrave yet, and you're already setting down roots."

"Only a fool does not plan for the future."

Johann was about to say more when he caught sight of the High Elves marching into the fort.

"Holy Ulric... I never thought that the day would come where I would see elves."

"It gladdens my heart to see you moved so, General." Erhardt joked, "It seems as if there is another gate, and it has opened on their island kingdom. Their captain and I are going to speak to one another. General, I leave you in charge of the refugees. Perhaps later we can employ the able bodied men and boys do some work around here."

"It shall be done my Prince."

From the back of Vanon's horse, Tuka looked around at the fort and it's inhabitants. More humans, not Imperials but the outsiders, with their bushy beards, guttural language, and odd clothes. The way they stared at her, as if she were some kind of extraordinary thing. Why? It was true that few elves left their forest homes, but these humans looked and acted as if they had never seen one of her people before.

For some reason, it made her uneasy. Subconsciously, she tightened her grip around the man she was riding with.

If Vanon was aware of her subconcious act, he gave no indication. Instead, he stopped his horse, got off of it, and held out his hand to Tuka.

She did not know why he insisted on helping her up and off his horse. After all, she had recovered enough to do that herself. Still though, a part of her was flattered at the attention he was giving her; it helped distract from the loss of all her family and friends back in Kowan.

That he was not too bad looking was a bonus.

Wordlessly, she took his hand, and allowed him to help her down. He then walked over to the human leader, leaving her next to the horse. Though the language barrier was still a problem, she felt at ease among these strange elves; not the least because they were skilled warriors. If they were at her village, perhaps they could have fought off... no. There was no use in thinking about that. All she could do right now was stick with these elves, recover her strength, and then go and search for her father, and any other survivors of her village.

"Hello there young elf!"

She almost jumped out of her skin at the loud voice. She turned around and saw the old human mage walk up to her, a young girl of sixteen, his daughter perhaps, or an apprentice, trailing behind him.

"Sorry to spook you," he said with a mirthful grin, "I am Cato, the Elder Sage, and this is my apprentice, Lelei. Say hello Lelei!"

"Hello."

"Hello to you as well." Tuka responded, smiling for the first time in a while, "How can I help you?"

"I see you're traveling with a band of strange elves Miss!"

"Strange is... one word for it." Tuka said, "They fight like I've seen human soldiers fight; with formations, and they wear armor like knights. They are unlike any elves I've ever met before."

"Do you think they're from beyond the Gate as well?" Lelei asked Tuka.

"I think so." Tuka replied. On the way to the fort, Tuka had overheard the Coda villagers talk about the strange humans; how they were from beyond the Gate, and how they had taken Alnus Hill for themselves. From what she had seen of these humans, she believed that they were from another world; that made it easier for her to believe that Vanon's elves were also not natives.

"Hmmm." Cato muttered, his hand stroking his beard, "It appears that all of us have just became traitors to Sadera. Now that we're under the protection of these newcomers, I fear that, once the Empire finds out that we accepted their offer of sanctuary, they will kill us all."

Tuka nodded, though a part of her wasn't to concerned with her new, wanted status.

'As if the Empire actually needed a reason to hunt elves.' she thought, "It has never stopped them before."

"Having second thought Master?" Lelei asked Cato, who shook hsi head.

"Hardly. Sadera wasn't going to come save us, and I've never been especially fond of Molt Sol Augustus anyway. If the safety and security of our village means that we work with these Outsiders, then I'll be glad to do it.

"Speaking of which, Lelei, it looks like it's time to talk." Cato pointed at a man wearing robes that made Tuka suspect that he was a scribe of sorts, who was walking over to them with one of the soldiers.

"Cato Old Sage?" he said in broken Common, "With me come. Speak learn please."

"Well, duty calls!" Cato announced, "Come Lelei, you might learn something."

The two humans left Tuka, who, for the lack of anything better to do, decided to get the lay of the land and explore the fort. She grimaced when she saw the heads on spikes decorating the walls; heads of ogres, orcs, goblins, and other demi humans that the Empire used as disposable shock troops. On the way into the fort, they had passed by the remains of huge funeral pyres, where the soldiers had burned thousands of dead bodies; the remains of the enemy force attempting to take back Alnus Hill. Even within the fort, Tuka could smell smoke and burning flesh; it was too similiar to the remains of her village for her liking.

She uttered a silent prayer to Lunaryur that she would not have to stay here for long... or if she was destined to spend time here, that the smell of smoke would soon pass.

===

"A hostile empire rules these lands, and has numerous legions of men to throw at us." Erhardt explained as he took a seat across from Vanon, motioning to a servant to pour them wine, "The other end of this Gate that we built this fort around is located in the heart of Reikland, my home province, only a stone's throw away from Ubersreik. It was only by the grace of the gods that we managed to throw the invaders back through this gate before they truly had a chance to reap greater havoc on our lands."

Vanon nodded, "As far as we know, the native empire is unaware of the Archway leading to Ulthuan. That is good; from what you have told me of them, they would not hesitate to invade. Ulthuan already possess a surplus of enemies; we do not need another."

"Then we should be grateful that they remain unaware, for the moment at least." Erhardt replied, "Where did your Gate open? Somewhere on Ulthuan, obviously..."

"What do you know of the Kingdoms of Ulthuan Prince?"

"Not much I'm afraid. I once went to Lothern with my father and family once, when I was young...er, but I barely remember the trip."

"The Archway, or Gate as you call it, opened in the Kingdom of Nagarythe, more commonly known as the Shadowlands, or the Sunken Isles, the most heavily contested territory on all Ulthuan. Ever since the sundering, a shadow war has been fought between the Shadow Warriors and our traitorous kin, the Druchii."

"The Dark Elves?" Erhardt asked, "For the Gate to open there is... disturbing news. If they should take your Gate, and then discover our Gate, then they have a backdoor to the heart of the Empire. That is unacceptable."

"None of this is acceptable." Vanon stated, "Druchii on one end, and a hostile human empire on the other. Ulthuan can ill afford being caught between two such foes."

"Then it seems we share a common purpose Captain; both our homelands are threatened by one another's enemies, and we must both see to it that none of our enemies can breach the Gates."

"So, you propose a military alliance then?"

"I do. We must secure both Gates, as well as prevent the native empire from threatening us."

"I am afraid that such matters are above my rank Prince. I am merely a Knight, and I must report back to my own Prince. I will bring him your offer; though he can be a touch arrogant, Prince Madir is no fool. He will see the wisdom of an alliance between Ulthuan and the Empire of Man, and convince the Phoenix King to devote troops to such an enterprise."

"I am grateful for your assistance and cooperation then Captain Vanon." Erhardt nodded, "In the meantime, I will petition my father the Emperor for more soldiers, or failing that, funds with which to hire sellswords. If and when you return here, you will not find us to have been idle."

"To our common cause then." Vanon said, raising his cup.

"To our common cause." Erhardt replied.

Elf and man then touched their cups together and drank.

"If you do not mind me asking Captain, what do you intend to do with that elf girl?"

"Who, Tuka?"

"Yes, her. As I understand it, she is a native of this land."

"She is. That elves are in this world as well as yours is surprising, and raises many questions to her people's origins. I intend to take her with me back to Ulthuan, so that wiser elves than I can find a way to discover how this came to be."

"Interesting... first men dwell in this world, then elves. Do you suspect that other races live here? Greenskins perhaps, or the dawi?"

"If there would be one race that I would not be surprised to see live here, it would be the greenskin barbarians. As for the dawi... I'd rather not think about that."

"Fair enough Captain, fair enough."

==

Italica

King Duran of Elbe was not a happy man. He had not been happy since before the Allied Army was broken at Alnus, sent there to die by Emperor Molt Sol Agustus.

Though they lost only a third of their men, only a handful of the leaders of Army had survived the meat grinder that were the defenses that the Outlanders had set up. The blood of many kings and princes has soaked the ground of the sacred hill before the fighting was done, many of them good friends of his. Death on the battlefield was one thing, but then there was the Outlander madman with the ridiculous feathered hat who rode into the Allied Army's camp at night, set tents, men, and supplies on fire, and lopped off the heads of their commanders and stole them before stealing into the night like a bandit! Upon the Outlander's walls, Duran had recognized more than one familiar head, stabbed onto a pike.

Even with the deaths of so many brave nobles, the army should not have dissolved the way it did. The chain of command broke down, and order imploded. Entire companies of men turned on their officers and then deserted.

Fragmented as they were, Duran and other commanders took their men and left Alnus, before the enemy took their chance to counterattack and take advantage of the fragmented state of the Allied Army.

Fleeing the incoming carnage, Duran and his surviving men, 10,000 Elbans, and another three thousand from the scattered Allied Kingdoms, went to Italica to lick their wounds, guests of the newly titled Countess Formal, a young girl thrust into a leadership role long before she was prepared for the task.

Duran would reorganize his army, and then return to Elbe. Then he would find ways to get back at Molt.

At least, that was the plan before the mob of soldiers he left behind at Alnus also came to Italica... not to seek shelter, but to raid and pillage the lands of the Formal family.

This bandit army outnumbered his force, and the Italica City Guard three times over. Soon, they would surround the city, and cut off all chance of escape. The smart thing to do would be flee, while he still had a chance... but the honorable man in him refused to leave the Countess to a horrible fate.

If any of them were to survive this, they would need help, and soon.


	3. Chapter 3

The Imperial Capital of Sadera

Two months after the Gate opened, one before the siege of Alnus Hill  
===  
Pina Co Lada, only daughter of the Emperor, Molt Sol Agustus, watched as Remus Fla Lucius, General of the Gate Expeditionary Force, knelt in front of her father, he eyes on the floor, all the while trying to cover up the stump where his left hand used to be. Currently, the formerly distinguished general was attempting to explain his failures; being defeated in battle, being driven back through the Gate, and subsequently losing Alnus Hill to the Outsiders.

"My Emperor," he began, sounding and looking like a whipped dog, "All went well at first. We took a handful of towns, and claimed many slaves. Survivors of our victories fled into the woods, and I dispatched men to retrieve them. When they did not return, I dispatched a larger force into the woods. Only a handful survived, and when they returned to the main force, they told us of the monsters that dwell in those woods; huge beasts that walk like men, but fight with the ferocity of a raging bull. It took four men to put down one of these beasts-"

"Do you expect us to believe that trained legionaries could not put down a few mongrel subhumans?" Prince Zorzal sneered from the Emperor's right hand, "Or are you merely spinning yarns to cover for your embarrassment?"

Pina internally bristled. While he was a skilled general and soldier, Zorzal had always been a cruel man, and every time he opened his mouth was to belittle someone else, and any day that he did not brutalize one of his slaves was to be considered a wasted day. Thankfully, Pina never had to interact with him much these days, otherwise she'd have failed to resist the urge to put her sword in his gut.

"I do not lie my Prince!"Fla Lucius exclaimed, for not a day after the scouts returned, than the entire army was set upon by these beasts! Ten thousand men can attest to that. They butchered half a legion before we finally broke their ranks, and no sooner had the last of the subhumans retreated back into their dark forest than the enemy attacked us in full force.

"They struck at us from the west, the north and the east. They had weapons that shot fire and death, and many died before they could even reach the enemy's lines. Many of those who survived being struck by the fireshooters would lose limbs, or die mere days afterwards. Then there were the mages-"

"Now we know the general lies!" Zorzal shouted, his mouth twisted into a sneer, "For now he expects us to believe that the barbarians used magic against him, and that their magic was capable of being dangerous!"

"It is the truth!" the broken man shouted back, his anger overcoming court etiquette and the sense not to raise your voice at a Prince, "Their magic far surpassed our own mages, and scores of good legionaries were cut down by their sorceries! Faced with certain defeat, I did the only thing I could do, and retreated back through the Gate. If I did not, we would have been slaughtered to the last man!"

"Perhaps you should have been slaughtered," Zorzal said, "and spared us the sight of seeing your shame-"

"Zorzal, enough!" the Emperor shouted, "Lucius, your retreat back through the Gate has shamed you and your family, as well as allowed the barbarians to seize Alnus Hill for themselves. Even now, my scouts report that they build fortifications upon the hill, and around the Gate, denying it to us. This can not and will not stand! Therefore, I have tasked the Vassal Kingdoms to raise their banners, and to march upon the hill immediately. They will drive the outsiders back through the Gate, and reclaim it for the glory of the Empire."

Pina was surprised at that; why send the Vassal Kingdoms when the Empire still had a surplus of legions?

"Please my Emperor!" Lucius said as he stood up, still covering his stump, "Let me join the assault! Let me regain my honor!"

"No." Molt said, much Lucius' dismay, "You had your chance, and you failed. You will remain here in Sadera, and await further orders."

"I... I understand, My Emperor."

"Good. Now then, the Emperor has better things to do than to waste time with a failure like yourself Lucius." Zorzal said, "Now run along so that your betters can fix your mistakes."

Lucius said nothing, but bowed one more, before turning on his heel and leaving, ignoring the snickers and gossip of the Imperial Court. Pina was sympathetic to the general, but to express her feelings would not be wise, now that Lucius had fallen out of favor.

Now was not the time for that. Now was the time to press her own agenda.

"Father, if I may make a request?" Pina said as she stepped forward.

"Speak Pina." Molt said, smiling for the first time. Pina was Molt's favorite child, and the Princess had taken advantage of her status on more than one occasion.

"I would like for myself and the Rose Order to join the Vassal Kingdoms at Alnus. It would raise their morale to know that a member of the Imperial Royal House is fighting alongside them."

"Still trying to play at being soldier Pina?" Zorzal asked mockingly, "Leave it to the men dear sister; focus on more womanly pursuits better suited for one of your station."

"I was speaking to our father the Emperor," Pina said, not even sparing Zorzal a glance, "for he has the final word in the Empire. Not you brother."

"You watch your tone-"

"Silence Zorzal!" Molt shouted, and the Crown Prince immediately complied, bowing his head and taking a step back behind the throne, but is eyes were glaring at Pina.

"Daughter," Molt addressed the Princess, "This campaign is beneath you. It would be a shame for the Rose Order's first battle to be such an insignificant melee. Instead, I have another task for you. Cleos Pal Brutus has returned from his subjugation campaign in the north, and such a victory deserves a triumph. The Rose Order has been given the task of serving as Brutus' honor guard..."

Pina only paid attention to half of what her father was saying. It was the same excuse as always; just once she would like to hear him say what he really meant.

That she and the Rose Order were all silly highborn girls, playing at being soldiers, and it would be foolish to send them into battle, where they would all certainly die.

She and all members of her order were trained soldiers, the equal to and in some cases better than any man, but none would let them prove their worth i battle. Instead, it was merely one ceremonial role after the other, with the occasional foray into the countryside to remind the people of the Emperor's might.

Day and night, Pina prayed for a chance to prove her mettle. What good were her skills if she could not use them? She had hoped that the battle to retake Alnus Hill would be the chance she desired, only to have her hopes be dashed once more. She was used to disapointment though, so it did not sting as bad as the first time she was refused.

Still, from Lucius' reports on the other world, there was a surplus of land to conquer, and many foes to defeat. She would get her chance, sooner, rather than later.

===

Keraz-a-Kerak

One month after the skirmish against the flame dragon

Karaz-a-Karak, Everpeak, the capital of what remained of the dwarfen people, and the seat of power of it's High King.

It was here, within this hold, that a lone dwarf, clad in armor finer than any manling could hope to produce, made his way through the halls of the High King's residence, summoned there to recieve orders.

He finally came to a large door, guarded by two dwarfs in full plate armor, wielding huge axes and hammers.

"State your business." one said sharply.

"I am here to see the High King." came the response, "He has summoned me for a task, and I must see it through."

The dwarf nodded, and together with his fellow guard, they slowly swung open the great doors leading to the High King's audience chamber.

"My King, may I present Thane Kregan, Son of Krogan, of Clan Magni!" a herald bellowed to the room.

"My King!" Kregan, declared as he bowed before Thorgrim Grudgebearer, High King of the Dawi, Dwarfs to the younger races, "By your command, I have come!"

"Rise Kregan." Thorgrim said in his deep booming voice, we have much to discuss."

"As you wish my King."

Thorgrim was seated upon the Throne of Power, and he regarded Kregan sternly.

"Tell me Kregan, what do you know of the Gate that opened in the lands of the Empire?"

"That it is a thing of magic, and therefore dangerous." Kregan replied, "The Empire umgi should have destroyed in months ago."

"I am glad they did not."

"My King?"

"Karak Azgaraz lays close to where the Gate opened. The dawi of that hold have reported marvelous things to me. A whole new world lays beyond through the Gate; one filled with manlings true, but a host of other races... including elves."

"Aye, I heard as well that elves made their home on the other side of that thing. Still though, if I may be blunt my King, you did not call me here to speak of the damned elgi."

"You are correct Kregan. Thuringar's latest missives have told me of a certain piece of hearsay he learned of from Umgi merchants, returning from the Gate. They tell that, within the lands known to the locals as 'Falmart,' there live dawi."

"Dawi, my King?" Kregan asked, shocked, "But how?"

"The answer is unknown to me Kregan, neither is it known if there is any truth to these rumors. That is why I have called you. I want you to go through this Gate, and if our kin to dwell beyond it, then find them, and see if they are still our kin."

Kregan nodded, "As you command my King; though I do not look forward to traveling through a thing of magic, if it serves to help the dawi, then I will pass through that damned Gate a hundred times and more."

"It pleases me to see you willing. Take a Throng with you; all reports confirm that the land of Falmart is dangerous, and controlled by a hostile empire named Sadera. Expect battle, often."

"I will gather my finest warriors my King." Kregan declared, "Whatever those Saderan manlings have in store for us, they are ill prepared for the dawi!"

===

Fort Griffon, Alnus Hill

"Well, I say we're going to be extremely wealthy!" Cato said with a huge grin as the Coda villagers gathered the dragon scales together.

No sooner had the Coda villagers settled in around Fort Griffon than Lelei had come across piles of dead dragons, war beasts used by the Allied Army, strewn all across the hill.

It had shocked Lelei that their new overlord was merely just leaving gold to rot, but Prince Erhardt had told them that he and his people were more concerned with disposing of the dead humans, lest they stand up again.

Lelei had thought he was joking. The stern look he had given her said otherwise.

In the weeks following their arrival to Alnus, the Coda villagers had settled around Fort Griffon. Lelei and her master had spent many hours with the Prince and his scribes, learning each other's languages. Erhardt and many of his officers could now carry on a conversation with her, while she was almost completely literate in Reikspiel. Her master was pleased with her progress, calling her, not for the first time, his 'little genius.' As of now, Lelei and Cato had carved out for themselvees a spot on Erhardt's council as experts of the new realm they had come to.

With funds and materials provided by Prince Erhardt, a small town was in the process of springing up around the fort. Already, refugees fleeing the increase in bandit attacks travelers seeking fortune, and unsavory individuals fleeing Saderan law were arriving from all over Falmart, and coming to the Fort.  
Everyone who wished to settle in what was now the 'Alnus March' was given one choice;

Swear fealty to the Empire of Man, or be turned away.

Demihumans were turned away outright; the Imperials did not want what they viewed as 'mutants' within their midst, even if they were willing to swear fealty. Such racism was common in Sadera; it seemed it was common on the other side of the Gate as well.

As she learned more of their language, Lelei also learned more about the Prince's country; and what she learned had both intrigued and unsettled her.

They made use of weapons that shot fire, gunpowder, their word for it, from the smallest pistol, to the mightiest cannon. Their style of government was strange to her (electing an Emperor, how strange), and they maintained relations with mighty nations of demihumans.

Then there were the things that unsettled her; namely their attitudes towards magic.

In the Saderan Empire, few mages recieved the respect that Lelei thought they deserved. Her master Cato was one of the few, but for the most part, mages were seen as eccentrics, and useless in battle. Not so in the Empire of Man. There, mages and magic were feared, and up until a few hundred years ago, they killed mages on sight, until an Emperor named Magnus legalized magic. Even still, mages were kept on a short leash.

Lelei thought back to all the hard stares that Templar of Sigmar had given her. Once it came to light that both she and her master were mages, he looked as if he was ready to set them on fire right there and then.

The man scared her, and although he didn't show it, she knew that Cato was uneasy around the Templar as well.

Despite his skewed priorities, Prince Erhardt did in fact recognize, in part, the value of the dragon scales, and he planned to sell it back in his homeland.

During a council meeting, Cato, had managed to convince Prince Erhardt to sell it on this side of the Gate.

"You want to create a new realm here, do you not?" Cato had asked, "Well to do that, you need to start interacting with us in ways that doesn't involve battle. If you find the right buyer, you can sell the dragon scales for a fortune! Enough gold to supply an army or a town for a year, and, if we play our cards right, we can sell them for a higher price than we could have in your homeland."

Erhardt raised a hand to his chin, "Your words have merit Cato. Very well, we will do it your way. Where would you suggest we sell these dragon scales?"

"Well, the closest town would be Italica. It is a bustling trade city, located at the crossroads of the Appia and Dessria Highways. Merchants from all over Falmart gather there."

"As good a place as any."

"One more thing my Prince, if I might make a suggestion."

"Speak then."

"Well, perhaps it would be better if my apprentice and I speak on your behalf for the process of selling these scales. Though the Emperor's power wanes in these lands, many are still fearful of you. Should you or any of your servants approach, Italica might not open it's gates, and more importantly, it's market, to you.

"That would make selling these scales difficult."

"Indeed. I on the other hand am the famed Elder Sage! Not only will they open their doors to me, I might even be able to get a better deal! Allow Lelei and I to speak on your behalf, at the very least until we have found a buyer or buyers for the scales."

'... Very well then Cato. You have my blessing in this matter. However, take Sir Siegfried and a handful of my Greatswords with you, both for protection and to show that you speak with my authority on this matter."

"Fair enough my Prince."

"One more thing though Cato."

"Yes?"

"What do you want in return for doing this Cato?"

"Ten to fifteen percent my Prince!"

"You dare-" the Templar began before Erhard raised his hand.

"Very well. Ten percent of the profit will be yours Cato."

"I thank you Prince!"

That was a few days ago. Cato and Lelei had spent that time gathering the scales, taking them to the modestly sized one story building that Erhardt had granted them within the walls, shut themselves inside, counted the scales, and determined their value. They were not even halfway through and Cato was already celebrating that their ten percent would make them extremely wealthy.

"So, what do you plan on doing with your cut Lelei?" Cato asked her.

"Save it." she replied, "Never know when you need it. Maybe I'll invest in the new town. You?"

"Books. Lot's of books." he said with a big smile.

"A wise purchase master. I think we should also put some aside for Tuka. She helped gather the scales while she was here. We can give them to her when she gets back."

Though she had only been at the fort for a few days, Lelei and Tuka quickly became friends, the elf girl learning a bit of Reikspiel alongside her, and helping to gather the scales. However, the elf, Captain Vanon, had obligations, which had required him and his people to return to their own Gate. When he did leave, Tuka left with him preferring the company of her own kind to staying among strange humans, even if those elves were as alien as the Prince's people.

Then last week the fort had received a letter telling them of Vanon's return; he had spoken to his superiors, who had agreed to Erhardt's offer of alliance, and were sending Vanon and a small contingent of soldiers with him, to serve as Ulthuan's liaison to the Empire of Man. Another letter, delivered to Lelei, was from Tuka, who excitedly wrote down that she returning with Vanon, and could not wait to tell Lelei all about the sights she had seen in the homeland of the Asur (what the strange elves called themselves).

"Hmm? Oh, well of course. She should get a cut too... do elves use money?"

"I'm sure the elves she went with do in their homeland."

"True, true... heh, elves in armor. Now I've seen everything!"

"OPEN THE GATES!"

Lelei stuck her head out the window and saw a trio of elves on horseback coming through the main gate. To her surprise, Tuka was among them!

"LELEI!" Tuka shouted to her as the elf girl waved from the back of a milky white mare before dismounting with the natural grace of her kind "I'm back!"

Lelei hurried outside, Tuka running up to her and embracing the smaller human.

"Oh, it's so good to see you again, how have you been?"

"Keeping busy." Lelei replied, a small smile on her face, "What are you doing here, I thought you and Captain Vanon weren't due for another few days."

"I rode on ahead." Tuka answered, "With protection of course, hence these nice elves with me, Elvar and Eldir. They're from a place called Ellyrion, and they call themselves Reavers..."

Lelei let Tuka talk, taking the opportunity to look her friend over, surprised at what she saw.

Tuka was no longer dressed in the simple yet beautiful greens of the forest elves. Instead, her clothes were finely made, with a shirt of white, and an overcoat of blue, and red, with gold accents, while her pants were of quality leather, and her boots looked as if they cost as much as the rest of her clothes combined.

"I have so many things to tell you about!" Tuka practically shouted, "First though, I want to hear what's new with you-"

The sound of marching drew both girl's attention away from one another, and towards the Gate.

A dozen or so fully armored humanoids were marching out of it. They were shorter than Lelei, and that was saying a lot, but they were also twice as wide, had long beards, and were each armed with a finely crafted weapon.

"Dwarfs..." one of the Reavers said under his breath, in a tone that dripped with disgust.

"Hello manlings!" the lead dwarf yelled, "My name is Kregan, son of Krogan, Thane of Clan Magni, and I want to speak with your Prince regarding the use o' his gate to transport my Throng!"

===

Italica

"Please follow me Princess. The Countess is down this hall."

Pina Co Lada, Princess of Sadera, and Grand Master of the Rose Order of Knights, followed the House Formal maid to the palace's war room.

She had come to Italica on her father's orders, to determine the state of the region. Reports were coming in of increased bandit activity, as the remains of the Allied Army had dispersed and fragmented after the failure of the siege. Italica was a major center of trade, situated on the crossroads of two major highways. Should Italica fall, the Empire would be cut in half.

Her first impressions of Italica were poor; she had heard that this was a prosperous town, the envy of the lands west of the mountains. What she saw was a city gripped by fear. Fear of the bandits, fear left in the wake of the late Count's recent passing into Hardy's embrace, fear of the foreign soldiers who, although there to help, were strangers, and fear of the events that were taking place not to far away on Alnus Hill.

All the more reason for her to take action. If Sadera was going to stabilize the region, it would need Italica.

All it took was her Imperial Seal to make the House Formal guards open the gates of the city to her, and to make them take her to the Countess, who Pina had heard was a mere girl, no older than ten or twelve.

Pina was also surprised to see that, apparently, the rumors of House Formal's... tolerant, nature were true. Demihumans, hired by the late Count, almost exclusively made up the palatial staff. It was strange for Pina; the only time she had seen a demihuman in a palace was when Zorzal paraded his bedslaves around.

The maid she was following, a gaunt looking woman named Kaine, stopped in front of a great door and slowly opened it.

"Your Ladyship," she announced, "May I present her Imperial Highness, Princess Pina Co Lada of Sadera."

Pina stepped inside, and was greeted to the sight of the young Countess, sitting at a large chair that made her seem even smaller, at the head of a table. Also at the table were armed men, professional soldiers and survivors of the Battle of Alnus Hill. One soldier in particular, with his eyepatch and fierce beard, stood out.

"Countess, thank you for welcoming me and my knights into your city." Pina said, "And King Duran; I am glad to see that you survived Alnus Hill."

Duran scoffed, "You'd be the first Saderan to say so, Princess."

"I assure you your majesty, once word reaches the capital of your survival, the people will be overjoyed that a King of your fame lives." Pina said, trying to not let Duran's harsh words affect her.

"Your father won't be among their number." Duran retorted, "After all, he's the one who sent us all there to die."

Pina wanted to dispute his claim, but she knew he was correct. Her father was callous enough to send the vassal kingdoms to their deaths, but as an Imperial Princess, she could not admit that he did so knowingly, at least, not out loud.

"Friends," the Countess, Miyu, said in a voice so soft it was barely above a whisper, "We have enough enemies outside the walls of Italica without there to be bloodshed within."

"Of course Countess." Duran said, his venomous tone replaced with a warm one, "Forgive me."

"Princess," the Countess continued, "While protocol would call for a feast in your honor, I am afraid that as of right now, the emergency facing my city is my main concern."

"There is no need to apologize Countess," Pina replied, "Sadera is aware of the ills that afflict your city. Please, relay them to me, so that I may take them back to Sadera, and the Emperor can assist his subjects properly."

"Unless you've brought an army with you Princess, I don't think you can help us." Duran stated, "The bandits make for Italica, and they intend to loot and raze this city."

"We know of the bandit problem this province faces," Pina said, "But for them to threaten Italica directly..."

"It is true Princess." Duran said, "Somehow, a brigand named Flavius Ha Iulius has managed to bring together the scattered survivors and deserters of the Allied Army, and now leads them to Italica, under a banner of his own design, as though he plays at being a noble."

"Do you know how many men he has?" Pina asked.

"Tens of thousands." Duran stated, "The exact number we do not know; the only thing that we know for certain is that he outnumbers us, and that he will be upon us in less than a week."

Pina grimaced. She had come to this city looking for answers in regards to the Battle of Alnus; instead, she found a city on the brink of destruction.

"I will send one of my knights back to Sadera, requesting aid." Pina declared, "And until they arrive, I will stand with you and defend Italica."

"You?" Duran asked, "Fight with us? I'm surprised at you Princess, but I'd rather not have Molt Sol Augustus' blood with me."

"With all due respect King Duran," Pina began, keeping her anger in check, "You can ill afford to turn away an extra sword arm."

"She has a point King Duran." the Countess said, looking up at the King.

Duran grunted, "Very well then. The Countess is right; we do need all the swords we can get."

With a grin that was not too smug, Pina sat down at the table's other end, facing the Countess. On the table was a map of the city, with ivory figures representing both their soldiers, with the symbol of House Formal, and the Kingdom of Elbe on them, as well as the bandits, with Flavius' new heraldry freshly painted.

"So, what is the strategy for our defense so far?" Pina asked, as she began o take in everything that had been planned so far.

===

"Well, that should do it for now." Duran said as he stood up.

Three hours later, the war council had worked out a feasible battle plan for the siege. Duran and his forces would man the walls, while Italica's militia and city guard manned the interior. Pina and those Rose Knights she had brought with her would also fight on the walls, alongside King Duran, who had made his displeasure with the idea known, but said nothing to reject it either.

"I am still concerned about what demihumans and magic users they'll have at their disposal." Pina admitted, "Especially considering we have few options to counter them."

"We shall have to make do with what we have Princess." another soldier said, "It is all we can do."

"Indeed." Countess Miyu agreed, nodding.

Pina stood up as well; it had been a long day, and she needed a bath to wash the road dust from her body.

"Countess Formal?"

Pina and everyone else at the table turned their heads towards the door and saw the head maid standing there.

"We have another visitor; a distinguished mage named-"

"Cato the Elder Sage, at your service!" a loud, energetic voice cut her off.

Pina's eyes widened as she saw the famed mage enter the room, followed by a young girl of about sixteen, and elf girl, and five more men in armor.

"Countess Formal, thank you for having us on such short notice!" Cato said, "We've come with an offer for you, regarding a hoard of dragon scales."

"Dragon scales?" Miyu repeated, "Those are rare and valuable Cato. In normal circumstances I would be more than glad to speak with you on this matter, but Italica is currently under threat, and-"

"Hold a moment Countess." Duran interrupted, "Elder Sage; why do you travel in the company of Outlanders?" the king finished, his hand on his sword.

"Outlanders?" Pina asked, to herself mostly, as she took a closer look at the men Cato had brought with him. Though two of them wore unfamiliar yet fine armor, three of them wore armor and symbols that any Saderan listening to the tales of the world beyond the Gate could recognize; twin tailed comets, hammers, skulls, and griffons. These were the men who had destroyed two armies and were occupying the sacred Alnus Hill.

"Oh, these men?" Cato asked, almost dismissively, "Well, two of them are with this well mannered elf here," he pointed at the elf girl, "While these gentlemen are part of the reason I have all those dragon scales; as of present, I am in service to Prince Erhardt, the Commander of Fort Griffon, and Margrave of the Alnus March."

Whispering broke out among the room. They finally had a name for the enemy; Prince Erhardt, who had somehow managed to find a way to bring the Elder Sage into his service.

Pina had mixed feelings on that last bit; while Cato was legally a citizen of the Saderan Empire, he was a member of the Nomads, and as such, did not consider themselves citizens of the Empire... but to ally himself with the Outlanders without a second thought?

"Erhardt eh?" Duran said, "So that's the enemy's name."

"Now now, we didn't come here as foes, but to do business!" Cato said, "You have nothing to fear from Alnus; especially considering your own issues. Tell me, what ill wind blows Italica's way?"

The Countess informed Cato of Flavius' bandit army, and while she relayed the story to him, the tension in the room died down, though Duran and his people kept a close eye on the Outlanders.

"Well, an army of bandits taking Italica will not be good for anyone!" Cato stated the obvious, "What I relayed this news back to Prince Erhardt? I may be able to convince him to send help!"

"He would do that?" Duran asked, half suspicious.

"He might; he's rather reluctant to leave the Hill you see; not since that fight with the Flame Dragon."

"What's this about a Flame-" Miyu began before one of the Outlanders, a thirty something man with a short beard, and a longsword at his hip, strode forwards to the table, before reaching down and grabbing an ivory piece.

"I don't believe it." he said in heavily accented Common, looking at the piece, specifically the painted symbol on it.

"Don't believe what Sir Siegfried?" Cato asked, but the Outlander ignored him.

"Where have you learned of this symbol?" Siegfried inquired of the Countess.

"That symbol?" Duran asked, and Siegfried nodded, "Why, it's the one that the brigand's leader, Flavius, is using as his personal heraldry, as if he were a noble."

"Do none of you know what this is?" Siegfried exclaimed, "What this symbol means?"

"No, should we?" the Countess asked, unnerved at the seriousness the Outlander was showing.

Siegfried said nothing... then he set down the piece.

"I will tell the Prince of what it is you face; he will not hesitate to send an army to help you, for you face the darkness itself." Siegfried stated solemnly.

He turned around and barked a few orders to his men in his native tongue as he walked towards the door, with the other two men behind him, followed by the elf girl and her bodyguard, with Cato and his apprentice on their heels.

"Goodbye your Ladyship, your Royal Highness, your Imperial Highness and whomever other Highness or lordships i might have missed!" Cato shouted, "We'll be back with help!"

While everyone was still wondering what was going on, Pina took a look at the ivory figure the Outlander had picked up, or, more specifically, the symbol of Flavius.

Pina did not understand why he seemed almost frightened of it; it looked like a wagon wheel, with eight points sticking out of it. What was so threatening about that?

Pina was more frightened that the Outlander knew something that Italica's defenders did not.

===

Fort Griffon

"I cannot say that I am comfortable with these many dwarfs coming through." Vanon said as he looked out over the Gate from the second floor balcony of the Keep, "Especially with their odor."

"Come now Captain, it would be rude of me to deny their request." Erhardt said from inside, where he was sitting at his desk and reading a report, "The pact between the Dawi and the Empire has lasted for over twenty five hundred years since Sigmar's day. I could find no reason to deny their request to use the Gate, and I would be a poor Sigmarite if I did so anyway."

No sooner had Erhardt granted the dwarf's request than the Thane had immediately begun marching his people through. Ranks of armored dwarfs, each wielding weapons that would bankrupt a minor lord, made their way through the Gate, with their deadly artillery behind them, and even a few of their marvelous flying machines.

Truly, Erhardt was blessed to be seeing such sights.

"I would not wish for you to break your oaths to the mountain folk Prince." Vanon admitted, "I merely state my opinion of their race."

"I understand your mutual mistrust of each other Captain." Erhardt said as he took a sip of beer, "And I thank you for acting cordially when you interact with them."

"My people have enough enemies as it is Prince." Vanon said, "It would not do for me to antagonize the Dawi, not when we have Saderans and Druchii to deal with."

"Hmm." Erhardt agreed.

To say that the dwarfs and the elves had bad blood between them would be the mother of all understatements. Erhardt was more educated most of the Empire, and even he only knew a handful of the great war between Dawi and Asur, the War of Vengeance. What he did know was that the dwarfs forced the elves out of the Old World forever, but that doing so had cost them their own empire, and left them vulnerable to the greenskins.

While he was curious as to the reasons of that war, Erhardt knew better than to ask now, with the fort a virtual powder keg at the moment.

He was sure that Vanon's spirits would raise considerably when Lady Tuka returned. They had missed each other by mere hours; Tuka leaving with Cato, and Vanon's small army of elves arriving later the same day, much to Vanon's disappointment It was obvious even to a blind man that Vanon was infatuated with the native elf girl, taking her back to Ulthuan, giving her a swift and expensive courser, a veritable wardrobe of clothes, as well as a host of other gifts. If he was officially courting her, Erhardt did not know, but if her presence raised his ally's mood, then she could not return from Italica soon enough.

"Enough talk of the dwarfs Captain, I insist." Erhardt pleaded, "I wish to know the news of the Shadowlands Gate; what is the situation like at the moment on your end?"

"The situation is precarious at the moment, for our ships have reported a small fleet of Druchii making land on the Sunken Isles. We believe that this may be the beginning of another invasion."

"That... is troubling." Erhardt stated the obvious, "Do you believe that your Gate is their target?"

"There is no doubt in my mind that id the case." Vanon answered firmly, "Our dark cousins, while vile and wicked, are not foolish. They know it is magical, and that it can be used in their favor. At worst, if they claim it for themselves, and find some way to use it's magic, they could transport entire armies from Naggaroth to Ulthuan in instants, rendering our navy useless. At the very least, they would have a backdoor to your homeland. The truth is, there is no option in any scenario that ends well for us should the Druchii take the Archway for themselves."

"What actions has your Prince Madir made to defend the Gate?"

"Well-"

Vanon was cut off by a single horn blast. Someone or someones were approaching the fort.

"It seems we must hold off on this line of conversation for the moment Captain." Erhardt said as he rose from his desk, "It sounds as if our friends have returned."

The two made their way to the fort's gates, which already in the process of being opened, and were greeted to the sight of their returning comrades.

"Ah Siegfried, I am glad to see that you return to us unharmed." Erhardt said as the knight rode up to him, "And Cato! I hope you managed to get us on the track to selling those scales."

While Erhardt greeted his people, Vanon walked over to Tuka's horse and held out a hand for her. Wordlessly, but with a large grin, Tuka took the hand and consented to Vanon helping her down. She could have gotten down on her own, but she greatly enjoyed the attention he showered on her.

"Not quit my Prince." Cato said as both he and his apprentice got off his wagon, "You see Italica is preparing to be put under siege by an army of bandits when we left, so they had no time to talk business and-"

"Enough talk old man!" Siegfried snapped at Cato, who instantly closed his mouth, "My Prince, we must rally the army as soon as possible and make for Italica!"

"I suppose we cannot trade with them should those bandits pillage the place, but to leave the fort vulnerable?" Erhardt asked, "Why would we do such a thing for a town that is still a vassal of Sadera?"

"Because it is not mere bandits Italica faces my Prince." Siegfried said with an almost fearful look in his eyes, "The scouts in Italica have reported that they bear the Eight Pointed Star of the Ruinous Powers!"

An icy grip seized Erhardt's heart. Vanon stopped talking to Tuka and, wide eyed, stared at Siegfried. Every man, elf, and even a few dwarfs who were close by froze in shock.

The Eight Pointed Star, here? Of all places?

"You are certain of this Knight?" Vanon, having left Tuka's side, and walked up to Siegfried, "You are certain that followers of Chaos are here?"

"I have yet to see them myself noble Asur." Siegfried admitted, 'But the Italicans have, and I do not doubt them on this. It is no coincidence that these brigands carry the symbol of Chaos with them."

"Excuse me!"

Everyone turned at the sound of the voice, and saw Cato, for once with a worried expression on his face. Lelei stood behind him, the normally stoic girl concerned at the way the normally unflappable Empire men and Ulthuan elves were worried. Meanwhile, Tuka had placed a hand on Vanon's shoulder, a questioning look in her eyes.

"Sorry for shouting," Cato began, "But what is it that has you all so worried? Sir Siegfried did not tell us anything since we left Italica, and now you lot are nigh panicked! What is this Chaos?"

"Chaos is evil." a deep voice said. Father Wilhelm had arrived, dressed in full war plate, his attendants behind him, with one carrying his holy warhammer, "It is all that is foul and wicked in the hearts of men, amplified through the suffering of others, and the cruel delights of laughing daemons. It is a force of destruction and corruption, spreading it's disease any way it can, through either subtlety, or war. Most of all, it is the will of the Dark Gods, whose names must not be spoken.

"Prince Erhardt!" Wilhelm said as he took is warhammer in both hands, "If there is even a slight chance that Sir Siegfried if correct, then it must be taken as an absolute certainty. As such, it is our duty as both dutiful Sigmarites and as men of the Empire to stamp out this corruption before it has a chance to spread, and drown this land and all it's inhabitants screaming into the darkness!"

Erhardt could hear the shouts of approval coming from the surrounding soldiers. If he refused to take an army now, after the Warrior Priest's words, he might lose the respect of his men.

Of course, he didn't want to refuse. Father Wilhelm's words reached him as well.

"You are right Father." Erhardt said, "We must not allow the forces of darkness to corrupt this world.

"Spread the word!" he shouted to everyone within earshot, "We leave at dawn!"

Cheers broke out, and men rushed to ready themselves for the long march ahead.

"My forces will join yours Prince." Vanon said as he walked over to Erhardt, "If these bandits are indeed enthralled to the Ruinous Powers, then they pose a threat to Ulthuan as well."

"I welcome any and all help Captain." the Prince replied, a smile on his face, "Gods know that I need it."

"If you do not mind Prince Erhardt," Lelei spoke up, "I would like to accompany you to this battle."

"Are you certain Lelei?" Erhardt asked, "It will be very dangerous."

"I am. I am not helpless."

"That she isn't!" Cato said proudly, "She won't slow you down My Prince! In fact, she may even help turn the tide!"

Somehow Erhardt doubted that, but he was not one to say no to more magical support.

"Very well then. Ride with the College Mages, and listen to Magister Ottmar; he'll keep you alive."

Lelei said nothing, but nodded her affirmation.

"If Vanon is going, then I will go as well." Tuka declared, taking her bow, made from wood from the Chracian forests, another gift from Vanon, "I've improved my skill considerably this past month."

"And she was already a deadly shot to begin with." Vanon admitted, and Tuka nodded in agreement.

"Ach Manlings! Elgis!"

The assembled group of men and elves turned towards the speaker and were greeted with the sight of the dwarf, Thane Kregan, who was fully dressed in his armor, and carrying an axe in one hand, and a hammer in the other.

"I hear tell that an army of those damned daemon worshipers is here on this side of the Gate, and that they're going to raze this Italica town. That true?"

"It is indeed noble Dawi." Erhardt confirmed.

Kregan nodded and then looked directly at Lelei, pointing at her.

"You there, lass!"

"Yes?"

"This Italica, is it an important town?"

"It's the one of the most important trading towns this side of the mountains, sitting on he crossroads of two major highways-"

"Yes, that's all well and good, but would this place hold information on the location of the dawi?"

"Dawi?"

The Thane scoffed, "The dwarfs umgi, the dwarfs! Would they know where the dwarfs live on this continent?"

"I believe so." Lelei admitted.

"Then is seems that's going to be my next stop as well!" Kregan shouted, "Which means we stand a better chance of defeating this Chaos horde together."

"Of course I would welcome the assistance of the dawi in the coming battle." Erhardt said, "But would you consent to fighting alongside the Asur?"

Kregan turned to Vanon and Tuka, looked them once over, and then turned back towards Erhardt.

"Aye, I'll consent to fighting alongside Elgi, on accounts that I hate Chaos more, and that my mission, given to me by the High King, takes priority."

"Then we are all in this together." Erhardt said, looking around at his allies, "May the Gods grant us victory."

The next day, three forces set out from Fort Griffon; over ten thousand men of the Empire, three hundred High Elves, and two thousand Dwarfs, marching north towards Italica. Scouts were sent out ahead to gauge the enemy's numbers, and to determine how close to Italica the bandit army was.

When the first of scouts, a brave dwarf pilot in a gyrocoper, returned, he reported that, yes, the rumor was true; the bandits did fly the Eight Pointed Star, and they were already laying siege to the town, but were being held off by King Duran and his army. For how much longer though, none could say.

The forces of Old Night had come to Falmart, and it's first battle against the forces of Order would take place outside the gates and walls of Italica.

===

Flavius Ha Iulius, Captain of the Bastards of Emroy, was not a man you wished to cross. A veteran of countless campaigns across the Empire, he lived his life as first a legionary, then as a mercenary, one of the best in his business. When a lordling needed his border protected, they hired Flavius. When a Senator needed a rival's lands raided, they hired him. When the legions or the Saderan's vassal kingdoms needed experienced fighting men to fill out their numbers, or to train the townmen and peasants they conscripted into their armies, they hired him.

All his clients paid him what he was due, and if they did not, well, they were no longer his, and would never be anyone else's, client. It did not matter if he was a senator, merchant, priest, or prince; Flavius always took what was owed to him.

The Bastards last job was with the King of Mudwan, as he and the rest of the Empire's servant kingdoms marched to retake Alnus Hill from an army of Outlanders from across the Gate.

It was supposed to be a simple job. He had fought in sieges before, on both sides of the wall, and he knew from experience that type of warfare was the worst to be involved in, no matter if you were the besieger or the besieged. Still, he had fought in those battles before, and he knew what to expect.

The Outlanders defied all expectations. Though their defenses were constructed in obvious haste, their fire throwing artillery rained down death upon the army's lines. Every time the lordlings sent their men up the hill, only half of them made it through the fire and destruction to the walls. Those that did had to contend with the grim faced and vicious defenders.

It was a bad campagin. The lordlings didn't know how to run it properly, content to throw wave after wave of men at the hill. Flavius was no stranger to his own men dying, but at least in the past the Bastard's deaths actually meant something. This was just slaughter, with no purpose, and no progress. They were dying for nothing, only for the honor of some highborn ponce who feared the Saderans.

Three weeks into the siege, and Flavius had lost half of his company. He planned on leaving that very night, perhaps convince some of the other soldiers in the army to sign up with his band, replace the Bastard's losses, and steal anything of value from the dead lordling's tents. It was the least he could do salvage something from this military disaster.

Then, the old man came. He was dressed in ragged robes, looked and smelled of one who lived on the roads, and, most curious of all, though his eyes were milky white, Flavius could swear that the old man could see better than the keenest of falcolns.

He came to Flavius a night before the start of the fourth week, and spoke to him of the future, and, more importantly, Flavius' place in it.

A great upheaval was upon the world, the Saderan Empire would not survive it, for it had become corpulent and complacent. A great beast in it's time to be sure, but one that was desperately gasping for air, drowning in a sea of corruption of it's own making. Emperors killed their sons, brothers killed one another, and Senators became more like the criminals who plagued the cesspools of the cities. Such a civilization was doomed to collapse upon itself.

Why, even the gods had abandoned them.

Then the old man said that Flavius should not mourn the fall of Sadera; instead, he should rejoice! For it was the way of life, the eternal cycle of death and rebirth, that one empire should fall... and in it's place another would rise.

Flavius had a company of men; even better, he had the respect of the common men of the army, for he was one of the few to make it to the walls of Alnus, survive, and even kill, what he suspected, was a nobleman among the Outlanders, and claim his fine sword for himself. He could become a deserter, and a thief, stealing away into the night with his men and 'liberated' valuables. He had done such things before.

He could do that, the old man had said, or he could take his first steps to becoming a king, in his own right.

That got Flavius' attention. Were it any other old man that spoke such things, the grizzled mercenary would have knocked him to the ground, cursed him for an old fool, and gone on his way. When it was the old one who spoke such things... Flavius could not help but believe it.

So, in the following nights, Flavius conspired with other, like minded men, and together they turned on the noble fools who marched men into certain death. Only a few self styled kings survived the purge, fleeing to Italica, joining the King of Elbe, Duran, who had previously left the siege before Flavius and his compatriots could turn their swords upon him.

When the slaughter was done, the men who conspired with Flavius declared him their new leader, and half the army flocked to his banner. There were, of course, fools who dissented, taking issue with the killings of their kings, acting against their own self interests. Thus what should have been a day of victory turned into a full scale massacre, with soldiers turning upon one another. At the end of it, Flavius' forces were victorious, with the dissenters either dead or retreating to Italica as well.

Flavius now had fifty thousand killers marching under his command, and now, they needed an outlet for their aggression. So, Flavius turned his view towards Italica, the largest town closest to Alnus, and marched his army with the intent to take it. Once it was his, Flavius would use the city as the seat of a new kingdom, one that would rival Sadera in power and influence!

All the while, the old man stayed by his side, giving him wise council, and telling him of new gods... one that took a vested interest in the dealings of the mortal races, and did not turn a blind eye to suffering, or who only acted through apathetic Apostles. There were four of them, each powerful, and one day, all of existence would worship at their feet.

One god though, was above the other three, for he was a god of cunning and magic. It was this god that the old man followed, and, though he was never particurly religious in the past, it was to this god now Flavius had sworn himself to, above all others.

The Raven God.

The Changer of Ways.

Tzeentch.

He kept new his faith a secret from all but his nine most trusted commanders, who also followed him into Tzeentch worship, and tutelage under the old man.

With an army, a new god, and the favors bestowed upon him, the west would fall, and a new power would rise, with Flavius as it's head.

Change was coming. Italica would either be changed with it, or be destroyed by it's unstoppable stride.

===

Allied Army Camp

"According to the reports of our scouts, the bandit army is four days west of Italica," Erhardt said as she pointed to the bandits last known location on the map, "That was three days ago. Right now, we are one day out, maybe two depending on the weather. Either way, I believe the enemy will reach Italica before we do."

"Aye, the gyrocoptor pilots report much the same thing." Kregan confirmed as he smoked a pipe, "Even if it's only a difference of a few hours, if this King Duran can't hold off the hordes until we arrive, there might not be a city left for us."

Vanon merely grunted, crossing his fingers as he looked at the map, while behind him the other Asur officers looked intensively at the wooden figures representing the enemy's numbers.

Since the scouts returned with new information, Erhardt had hastily thrown together a war council between the three armies, sharing what information they knew, and forming a plan of attack. In attendance wa Erhardt and his council of generals, priests, knights, mages, and the Witch Hunter. Thane Kregan and his closest warriors represented the dwarfs, and Vanon and the officers of the bowmen and spearmen he brought with him to Fort Griffon represented the elves. Also, at the urging of Cato, Erhardt had sent word through the ramshackle town that had sprung up around Fort Griffon, asking for able bodied men with combat experience to join the army.

Though he was reluctant to trust any of the natives with a combat role, they needed the numbers on their side, and a regiment of a few hundred natives had been formed almost overnight. The stand in captain of this 'regiment,' was also sitting at the table, though Lelei and Cato were forced to translate for him.

This would not be an easy fight; they were outnumbered over two to one. The bandit army was reported to be around fifty thousand, while their own was barely twenty, mainly Empire men, with Kregan's throng and the elves Vanon had brought with him, though the Silver Helm did swear that reinforcements from Ulthuan were imminent.

"Well my friends," Erhardt said, leaning back in hsi chair, "We need to stop the enemy from entering Italica. Thane Kregan, your gyrocoptors move faster than anything else in the army; would you consent to use them to delay the enemy's advance?"

"HA!" Kregan laughed, "Aye, we can make life miserable for the umgi, and delay em long enough so the main body of our army can reach Italica before they do!"

"We Asur are also very swift." Vanon said, "We can join the dwarf's delaying tactics, perhaps kill a few of their leaders if the gods are good... perhaps even confirm if there is a chaos presence among them."

Erhardy nodded, suppressing a shudder at the mention of the Ruinous Powers. While they had long since confirmed that, yes, the bandits did wave flags with eight pointed stars, they had been unable to see if the dark powers truly had taken hold of those men, or if it was mere coincidence.

The native captain said something, and Lelei translated for him, "Captain Marcus wants to know what we will do, should the dwarfs and elves delaying tactics are successful, we arrive at Italica first, before the horde?"

"Even if we arrive there first, we probably won't have enough to to get inside the city. Instead, we will form ranks with Italica's walls to our back." Erhardt said, "Infantry forming a wall between the enemy and our artillery pieces. Though we are outnumbered, we are not outmatched. The guns won us the Siege of Alnus, and now, they'll win us Italica."

"Do not put all your faith in guns Prince Erhardt." Vanon said, "You had walls in addition to guns at Alnus. This time, you'll be on the other side of the walls, with no advantage of the high ground. True, yours and the dawi's firepower will no doubt slay hundreds, if not thousands of the enemy, but when battle comes, it will not be guns that win the day, but the sword arms of your men."

"As much as it pains me to agree with an Elgi, the deciding point of this battle will come down to which side breaks first." Kregan added, "You can be assured though, the Dawi will not break. We will never break."

"I thank you both for your words of wisdom, and will take your advice to heart." Erhardt said politely, "May your people's gods watch over you in the coming battle."

With that, the war council ended. Erhardt stayed behind, trying to calm his too fast beating heart. This was his first battlefield command, and he was terrified. He only hoped that he could both control his fear, and ensure that no one else would find out about his fear.

'Father always made it look so easy,' he thought, "but I've done all I can. I've listened to both my generals, who are both wiser and more experienced than I, and I've listened to the elder races. All I must do now is defeat the enemy, and ensue that most of these men are still alive come the morrow.'

When Vanon entered his tent, he saw that Tuka was sitting at the small table that traveled with him, drinking the Chracian wine she had developed a liking to during their time in Ulthuan.

"So, how was the war council?" she asked, clearly a little buzzed, "Has anything changed since yesterday?"

"The dwarf flying machines and our own horsemen are going to harry and delay the brigands for as long as we can, give the humans and dwarfs and our own band time to set up their guns and infantry. Then the battle begins."

"And what of the troops your Prince Madir is sending?" Tuka asked, her tone becoming a slight hard at the mention of Vanon superior.

"They're coming, but at this rate they will arrive after the battle has already gotten underway." Vanon said as he sat down across from Tuka, who handed him a goblet before pouring him some wine.

"I see..." Tuka said, looking at the ground, "Well, the humans are strong. I have faith."

"It is good that someone does." Vanon spoke with a smile as he reached across the table and held Tuka's hand, who's face turned a shade of fearsome scarlet at the physical contact, "All that remains to be decided is your part in the battle."

"My part?" Tuka asked, now distracted from Vanon's hand holding, "Well... I suppose I'll be fighting with the rest of the archers on the field."

"Then that is where you will be." Vanon said as he withdrew his hand, "We should sleep now; we have an early start in the morning."

"Of course." Tuka replied as hse finshed off the rest of her wine, before she got up, walked over to Vanon, and kissed his cheek.

"Goodnight. Don't die." she added quietly.

"And leave you alone? Never."

===

Road to Italica

"Shields up!"

Scores of gunshots rang out, and dozens of bandits dropped dead, the rest either scrambling to hide behind their shields, or to throw their javelins at the swift pistoliers and outriders, with only a few hitting the horsemen.

"Kill those sons of whores!" a bandit roared as he held his shield above his face, "Come on you mongrels! Kill em!"

The second he looked over his shield, an arrow went through his left eye. No sooner had he hit the ground than his men began to form a shield wall in an effort to protect themselves from the deadly gunfire.

"Hold tight men!" an officer said as he threw one of his javelins. It soared through the air and struck true, impaling a pistolier in the chest, "We will be the rocks that hold out against their waves!"

"That one's mouthy." a Shadow Warrior said to her sister, as both elves hid behind the tall grass that surrounded the road, "I bet you a dagger that I can shoot his tongue from here."

"I'll take that bet." came her sister's reply, "But only if his mouth is open at the time, speaking in his pig tongue."

"Done." the warrior notched an arrow to her bow string and waited for the officer to speak again. He opened his mouth to give more orders, and that's when the elf released her arrow.

"Hold the line! Don't let them-"

His next words were cut off by an arrow going directly into his mouth, piercing his tongue to the back of his throat.

With the death of their officer, the bandits began to waver. It was not long before one of them gave the order to retreat.

"Fall back! Fall back to the main force!" shouted one bandit, who was immediately killed by one of his fellows.

"Hold you whoresons! Hold! If we run they'll just pick us off one by one! Keep the shield wall up, and wait for the main force to arrive!"

A gunshot whizzed past his head, singing his beard. To that, he merely scowled and raised his sword up high.

"Do you hear us you dead men! Try and kill us all, and we'll drown you in numbers!"

The skirmish had been going on for the past hour. A combined force of men, elves, and dwarfs had lain in wait on the road, with Italica six hours to the east. A large advance party, sent ahead of the main bandit force to get a lay of the land and to clear out any obstacles to the main body's advance and then report back to the main force, soon arrived, unknowing that they had walked into an ambush.

Guns and arrows flew through the air, killing many of the bandits, and forcing them to take cover. Every attempt on the bandit's part to counterattack was met with a hail of arrows and lead. The ferocity of the carnage they now faced reminded many of them of Alnus Hill, and dread soon took hold of many of their hearts. Some lost their nerve, but those who tried to run were picked off by elven arrows. They had lost most of their officers by this point, the Shadow Hunters taking care to pick out any bandit who looked to be exerting authority, and silencing his orders with an arrow.

"Is that the best you can do?" the new leader bellowed as a dwarf crossbow bolt pierced his shield, "Is that the best you fuckers can do? My old gran hit harder than lot!"

"Sergeant!" another bandit cried out, pointing into the sky, "They've brought fliers!"

Every bandit looked up into the sky and saw a trio of flying beasts, whose wings moved as fast as hummingbirds, descend onto their position. The creatures released things from their grasp, and that was the last sight any of the bandits every saw.

"Ah, that was a beautiful sight!" a hooded dwarf armed with a crossbow exclaimed as the bandits scattered after the bombs fell from the gyrobombers, "What did I tell ya manling?"

"Indeed Sir Dwarf." Siegfried said as he looked over the fleeing bandits, "Talys?"

"Yes human?" an Ellyrian Reaver asked.

"Could you send your riders to run down the escapees. We can't have them warning the main force."

"Very well human." Talys nodded and then took off on his horse, followed close behind by his band of wild riders.

"If I were in yer shoes umgi, I would ne trust such a task to the elgi." the dwarf said before spitting on the ground, "I'd have someone trustworthy do it."

"Well, I trust the elves Sir Dwarf." Siegfried replied, not in the mood for the dwarf's prejudices. He then kicked his horse to make it go forward.

"Sir Siegfried!" an Outrider said as he rode up towards the knight, "We have news from Prince Erhardt; his army has arrived at Italica. He has ordered us to finish up here, and to return at once."

Siegfried nodded before tunring to the men, elves, and dwarfs that made up their ambush force.

"Order the men to search for survivors among the enemy! When you find them, kill them, and then gather their corpses onto the main road and create a pile so we may burn them. We don't want these things to get back up again! After that, and after the Ellyrians' return, we make for Italica."

===

Flavius was livid.

He and his army waited for hours for the advance force to report back. Long past their due date, he sent another scouting force out to find the first one. The second force returned with ill news.

Now, it was later in the day, and Flavius gazed upon what was left of the first advance party; a pile of charred corpses blocking the road.

"Whosoever did this," Flavius began, his voice raspy and low, "Will feel the full force of our rage. I swear it to the Gods; this insult will be answered in kind."

"Very good My Lord Flavius." the old man said as he approached, ragged robes stained with the dust from the roads, and his white raven perched on his shoulder, "Those who stand in your way must be destroyed. I would advice caution though."

"Caution old one?" Flavius sneered as he waved his arm towards the burning pile of corpses, "Those Italican fools need to pay for what they did to my men, and you advise caution?"

Flavius was a large man, almost six and a half feet tall, and more than capable of killing anyone who drew his ire.

"Lord Flavius, do not let your grief blind you." the old man retorted, unafraid and unconcerned with the possible danger Flavius' wrath might do him, "Look around you, and tell me what you see."

Flavius scoffed, but did as his adviser asked. He took in the carnage, and as he did so, he began to notice certain things. On the less burned corpses, he noticed holes in their bodies, and the destruction done to the road itself. Most of all, he was able to smell a familiar scent. One he became closely acquainted with at Alnus Hill.

"The Outlanders!" he snarled, "They were here! Their fire weapons left that same stench in the air back at Alnus!"

"Indeed."

"Why are they here though?" Flavisu asked no one in particular, "This... this isn't good."

"No my Lord. The Outlanders defeated the allied army. As it is, your band may not fare much better."

"We cannot afford to turn back now." Flavius stated, "If we turn back, our forces will implode on themselves, splinter into a hundred smaller bands. Everything we worked for these past months will be in vain!"

"I said nothing of turning back, Lord." the old man said, smiling, "Only that your band, 'as it is' may not stand a chance."

"I cannot recruit more fighters! There are none left in these lands!"

"Not fighters Lord, no, but should you devote yourself further to the Raven God-"

"I've already sworn myself to our god, what more could I do?"

"Tzeentch is not like the gods of your fathers, oh no, no, no. He does not stand by and watch; he gives those faithful to him boons... blessings. Among these boons mayhaps lay a way to bring other devoted servants of the Changer of Ways to fight for you."

"... I am listening."

"It is simple my Lord; I am more schooled in these rituals. I will start them for you. All I require though, is life."

"Life?"

"Yes. Life for life. Sacrifices must be made."

"You mean to sacrifice humans?"

"Humans, demihumans, it matters not."

Flavius looked around, over his army, and took note of the demihumans that were counted among his ranks. His eyes then fell upon a group of orcs, who had served with him in the Bastards for over ten years now.

"Will they do?" Flavius asked the old man?

"Oh, they will do nicely."

===

Italica

"Countess Formal, King Duran, and Princess Co Lada, may I present Prince Erhardt of Reikland!"

As the House Formal maid stepped aside to let the Outlander leader enter the room, surrounded by a retinue of other Outlanders, as well as Cato and his apprentice, Pina took the opportunity to look their temporary ally over. She was surprised at how young he was; he was around her age, and already he was in command of an army. More responsibility than father ever gave her. Probably because he was a boy.

Pushing aside her frustrations, she examined this Prince Erhardt closer; his armor was decorated in the skulls and comets she had come to expect from the Outlanders, but it also had a few ravens engraved in the metal as well. What it meant, she did not know, but at the moment, it was not important.

What was important was the army he had brought to help defend Italica.

"We welcome you to Italica Prince Erhardt." Countess Formal said, "And we thank you for the men you have brought with you."

The Prince leaned towards Cato and said something in the Outlander's harsh native tongue. Cato nodded and then exchanged more words with him, before addressing the Countess.

"The Prince is grateful that you opened your gate to his army. He then says that only with our combined strength can we hope to vanquish the Chaos Horde."

"Yes, I'm sure he is." King Duran said, not bothering to hide his scowl at Erhardt, still unhappy at the thought of sharing a battlefield with the Outlanders who killed many of his countrymen and fellow kings.

Erhardt then uttered more words to Cato, who nodded.

"Prince Erhardt has instructed me to ask you for information regarding the roles that the forces within Italica will play in the coming battle, so as to better position his own men, as well as those of his allies."

"Allies?" Pina asked, "The Prince has brought additional forces?"

"Yes Your Highness," Cato said, "With the Prince's army traveled warriors from the Asur, and the Dawi."

"Asur and Dawi? What in the name of Hardy's hell are these peoples?" Duran asked.

"Apologies Your Majesty," Cato apologized, "Those are the names that the elves and dwarves of the other world call themselves by."

Murmuring instantly took hold within the chamber. Not just men lived in the other world, but elves and dwarves? And there was enough of them to send an armed force through the Gate?

A handful of the Prince's retinue stepped forward. A tall man took off his silver helmet and ran a hand through his blonde hair, giving everyone in the room a clear line of sight on his pointed ears, clearly marking him as an elf, though he was unlike any elf Pina had ever seen before. This one carried himself like any knight of the Saderan Academy; proud, confidant, and dangerous.

On the other side of the prince was clearly a dwarf, though this one was armored in metal plate armor of such quality, it was probably worth half of the valuables in the room put together. His beard was long, and his eyes hard. Like the elf, he was vastly different than any dwarf Pina had seen before.

"How many men did your boy Prince bring with him?" an officer asked Cato, saying 'your Prince' as if it were a dirty word, "Because unless he brought more than twenty thousand oh his Outlander barbarians, we won't stand a chance."

Pina inwardly grimaced at how antagonistically Duran and the others were speaking of this Erhardt, and thankful that the Outlander did not understand their language, and as such was unaware that he was all but being insulted.

"Prince Erhardt has brought with him ten thousand men of his homeland." Cato said, "The Asur brought three hundred, and the dawi have among their number two thousand."

"Only twelve thousand!" Duran shouted, "The enemy outnumber us two to one!"

"Should have known not to rely on an Outlander-"

"We'll be overrun-"

"-waiting for them to raze this town before they swoop in-"

"-what sort of reinforcements are elves and dwarves-"

"Silence! All of you!" Pina shouted, annoyed by their attitude, "That is still twelve thousand more men than we had this morning!"

"With all due respect Princess Pina," an officer bearing House Formal colors spoke, "The enemy still outnumber us. How can we hope to overcome?"

"The army you people sent through the Gate Outnumbered us." a rough voice said.

The entire room turned and looked at Erhardt, who had stepped forward, projecting an air of confidence.

"The army you sent against us at Alnus also outnumbered us." Erhardt said, his grasp of the Common Tongue decent, but spoken in a heavy accent, "Twice you people sent an army against us, and both times we defeated you."

Pina was shocked. The Outlander understood their language. More than a few of the more insulting officers were staring dumb founded at him, and looked as though they had placed their foot in their mouths.

As she had been dealing with the more insufferable officers for the past few days now, she was also secretly delighted the Outlander Prince had silenced them, if for but a moment.

Erhardt looked at Duran.

"I recognize your banners from Alnus. Cato tells me you are King Duran of Elbe. Is that not rue?"

"It is." Duran said suspiciously.

"Then you recall how your army could not take our fort. How we butchered you by the hundreds day by day until your army imploded upon itself."

Duran bristled, "You had more than ten thousand men in that fort though."

"True, but ten thousand is all that we need to win this battle." Erhardt said, "For we do not rely on numbers to arry the day, no. We use our artillery. Surely, King Duran, you remember the fireballs we rained down upon the Allied Army?"

"I do."

"And these bandits; they are also remnants from the same Allied Army?"

"They are."

"Then they will remember our guns as well." Erhardt explained confidently, "And they will fear them. We can use that fear to our advantage, in addition, or course, of all the death we will cause among their number. Now, shall we discuss strategy?"

"We shall Prince Erhardt." Pina said, taking charge of the war meeting, "Where would your artillery do the most damage?"

===

Erhardt tried very hard to hide how smug he felt whenever he looked at one of the Saderan officers. He had played the part of an ignorant foreigner, and waited to see how the locals would speak and act in his presense if they believed that he were incapable of understanding them. It was a favored tactic of his father during his own youth, and allowed you to gain a measure of the true character of the people you would be dealing with.

So far, Erhardt was not impressed.

Out of all the men there, few of them were proper soldiers. Countess Formal was a mere girl, and her officers upjumped merchants, or city guard out of their depths. General Duran was a seasoned soldier though, and knew much of war, and though his distrust and disdain for Erhardt was obvious, he would be able to work past it for the sake of defending Italica.

However, Erhardt was still attempting to get the measure of Princess Pina. At first glance, he could tell that she was green. She was obviously well trained, and had access to the finest equipment money could buy. She could obviously hold her own in a fight.

However, it was also obvious that this would be her first fight as well. While Erhardt did not want to make assumptions, it seemed to him that she had been purposefully kept away from battle. Was it due to her age? No, he had seen other Saderans around her age on the battlefield; he had even killed a few himself. Her gender? Perhaps. He did not see many women in the Saderan armies after all. Of course, it was not as if women fought in Imperial armies either; at least, unless you were a wizard.

Still, she seemed to know what she was doing. Training would take over in the heat of battle, keep her focused. He wouldn't have to worry about her.

Erhardt also noticed that she was a true beauty, a universal trait among Saderan women it seemed, but even by their standards, Pina was gorgeous. Long red hair going down to her waist, wide hips, pretty eyes, and an ample bosom that her armor did little to hide, though a part of him hoped she had proper armor to wear during the actual fighting.

It was a pity that she was only a temporary ally, and would go back to being an enemy once this Flavius was dealt with, otherwise Erhardt would court her.

"According to our scouts, the bandit army has been delayed by a single day." Erhardt explained, "That's time that my forces, and Thane Kregan will use to bring our guns into positions. We will then use these guns to bombard the enemy force, while our infantry, combined with King Duran's men, will meet the enemy in open battle."

"There's still more of them than there are us." an officer pointed out, Cato translating shortly afterwards, "How will we keep them from overcoming our lines?"

"Oi, Sage!" Kregan shouted at Cato, "Since I don't speak his language, you tell this manling that he has not fought alongside we Dawi before, but that he should know that we Sons of Grngi do not break, not even if it was a hundred thousand umgi coming against us!"

"An Asur is worth at least ten human soldiers." Vanon explained as well, but in the Saderan's tongue, "And combined with the fearsome artillery we have brought to bear, I have no doubt in my mind that we will be victorious."

"We thank you all for your contributions." Princess Pina said, "Though, if you would be so kind as to indulge in my curiosity?"

"I will to the best of my ability Princess." Erhardt replied.

"Your knight, Sir Siegfried I believe his name was, recognized the banners used by Flavius. He recognized the eight pointed wheel. I think you do as well. I also think you fear what this symbol represents, otherwise you wouldn't have brought an army at all.

"I would like it very much that you tell us what this symbol means."

Erhardt was impressed.

"Very well. You deserve to know the enemy we face. Flavius flies not a wheel, but a star. The eight pointed star of Chaos. It is the symbol of the enemy of civilization, and an ancient foe of not just my people, but of Captain Vanon's, and Thane Kregan's. It nearly brought the end of our world multiple times... and now it seems it exists in your world as well."

Erhardt would have gone on, but the chamber door opened, and two of Italica's mutant maids walked in.

"Forgive us Countess Miyu, but a Siren claiming to be from the bandit army is at the gates, claiming she has information on the enemy."

"Really?" Pina asked, skeptical, "What kind of information?"

"She said something about... blood sacrifices."

===

One day away from Italica

The orc was screaming even before the Old Man plunged his knife into his chest, and carved out his still beating heart.

Once, Flavius would never have allowed the Old Man to murder his soldiers. That was before he knew the glory of Tzeentch though.

Nine orcs were selected from among Flavius' army, nailed to nine stakes arranged in the holy symbol of the Raven God, with the entire bandit army watching. One by one, the Old Man sacrificed each of them with the knife, carving out their hearts, and throwing them into a large bowl of fire.

"Oh Lord of Magic," he whispered, "We offer up these souls unto you, so that you may grace our army. Send your servants towards this mortal plane, so they may join the coming battle, and bring change to this world."

A minute passed. Then another. And then another. Nothing happened. The bowl of fire burned orange, but nothing happened.

"This man is insane!" one of the soldiers whispered to his compatriots, "How soon before he takes a knife to us?"

"You doubt me?" the Old Man said to the soldier, having somehow heard him among thousands, "You doubt Tzeentch?"

"Look you old fool!" he replied, "This Tzeentch is not my god! Emroy is my God! And-"

Faster than anyone his age had a right to be, the Old Man stabbed the knife into the soldier's chest.

"Perhaps I was wrong to use them as sacrifices." the Old Man said, "Humans are better in that regard."

"You murderer!" another man shouted, and he with five others drew their swords and charged at the Old Man.

The only took a single step before Flavius beheaded one in a single stroke, before turning on the other four, killing them in a blink of an eye.

"Would anyone else like to challenge my authority?" Flavius asked, pointing his blade at the rest of the army. No one dared step forward.

It was then that the fire burned blue.

"Of course..." the Old Man said, "It was not I who should have carried out the sacrifices... but you Flavius. Your sacrifice has pleased Tzeentch.

"Come forth servants of the Changer of Ways!" the Old Man shouted as he approached the bowl, while Flavius and his nine closest followers dragged the bodies of the slain men to the bowl. They then carved the hearts out of the dead men's chests, and placed them into the fire.

The fire grew larger and larger, until something stepped out of it.

It was horrible; a writhing mass of mouths and tendrils, spilling fire out of every opening. Following it from the flames was a large pink monster with multiple arms, and a mouth full of teeth. More and more creatures followed, each grotesque and eldritch.

Finally, stepping out of the flames was something vaguely in the shape of a man, though it's legs were those of a bird, and it's head that of a raven with blue feathers. In one clawed hand was a golden sword, and the other a staff of shifting matter.

"Mortal, you called Jhiun the Silent Shouter to this material world," it spoke in a thousand different languages at once, causing the ears of several bandits to start bleeding, "Why?"

"To bring great change oh holy one." the Old Man said, "This is the army of Flavius, the first of many faithful to know of the glory of Tzeentch."

"This world knows not of our god?" it asked, and a hundred miles away, a farmer's wife with child gave birth to a mishapen stillborn.

"No oh great one. That is why we have called you here, so we may claim this world for Tzeentch, and that all may know of his glory! Starting with the city of Italica!"

Jhiun made a clicking noise with it's beak, before raising it's weapons into the air, and screeching. It's fellow daemons joined in it's noise, each adding it's unholy voice to the symphony of Chaos.

===

Outside the walls of Italica

Within his tent, sitting down in a travel chair, Vanon looked the letter over in his hand, reading it's contents in the light of the lantern.

"What do you have there?" Tuka asked as she laid down on top of the sheets of the bed, leading on her elbow and resting her head on her hand. She was dressed in a silken blue nightgown, cut low in front, and stopping above her knees, picked out for her by Vanon's elder sister, during their time in Lothern.

"A letter from my parents." he replied, "They are eager to meet you."

"Really?" she asked warily, "They may not be so eager if they knew about us. Do they know that we are... involved?"

"They do." Vanon replied, setting the letter down before walking over to the bed and setting himself down next to her, "Unlike Prince Madir, they're more accepting of interclass couples."

"Why Vanon, is that a proposal?" Tuka asked playfully as she wrapped an arm and a long leg around him, "A bit soon isn't it? We've only known each other for a month after all."

"Come now Tuka," Vanon replied wit ha smile, "When I propose to you, it will not be on the eve of battle."

"I will hold you to that." she said with a smile, "When you do, I shall be expecting it to be far more romantic."

"Your wish is my command Lady Tuka." Vanon said before placing a light kiss on her forehead.

"This past month has been wonderful Vanon." Tuka said, "I just wish..."

"I know." he said, hugging her and stroking her hair, "You miss your family."

"I do."

"You still believe that your father is still alive?"

"I know he is."

"Then we'll find him one day."

"Do you promise?"

"I swear before the Cadai."

"... Thank you..."

===

The next day, an hour before noon, the bandits arrived at Italica. Outside of the walls were the combined armies of Erhardt's Imperial, the remains of the Allied Army under Duran, Kregan's Throng, Vanon's company, and those few Rose Order Knigths that had accompanied Princess Pina. Atop the walls were Italica's City Watch, armed with bows to rain death upon the enemy.

"There they are Princess." Erhardt said as he rode over to Pina, taking note that she was wearing more sensible armor than she had at the war room, "Are you ready?"

"I am a Princess of Sadera and a trained knight." she replied, "My place is here."

"Good." Erhardt said wit ha smile, admiring her confidence, " Just watch out for our cannons. It would be a shame to be killed by friendly fire."

"I'll keep that in mind." Pina replied with a small grin.

In the bandit's ranks, Flavius looked out over Italica, scowling.

"The Outlanders are here!" he hissed.

"Do not worry Lord Flavius," the Old Man said, "we have Tzeentch with us instead of the old weaklings you called gods. We cannot fail."

Flavius nodded before he drew his sword.

"Catapults, ballistas, get into range and prepare to fire! Horsemen, flank them! Get the fliers into the air and target their artillery! Infantry, charge!"

The bandit force rushed forward, and the defenders stood their ground. The guns began to fire. The daemons began to cackle.

The Battle of Italica had begun, and all the while, a pair of ancient eyes was watching, smiling.

"Well," Rory Mercury, Apostle of Emory, said whilst balancing her huge axe on her shoulder, "it seems as if it is time for us to get involved."

"Good." Giselle, Apostle of Hardy replied, gripping her scythe, "I was getting tired of waiting around."


End file.
